Message
by Jazzola
Summary: Fred's dead uncle appears to be reaching out to him from beyond the grave, and with the scorn of others not backing him up, can Fred solve his own mystery with his uncle's help? Fraphne. A sort-of sequel to "Freddy's Ascot".
1. Chapter 1

A/N: OK, those of you who have read "Freddy's Ascot" will know that Fred's uncle gave him his ascot, shortly before his death in an accident at work. But this is nine years later, and could Fred's uncle have returned to haunt him? Read on and find out… Jazzola

* * *

"Freddy, watch out, you're going to catch your hook on your sleeve again and that's your new sweater…"

Fred nodded and carefully swung the fishing pole out, making sure that it landed as far out on the little lake as possible. His uncle's fishing hat swamped his small head, but he looked adorable in it so his uncle always gave it to him.

"Atta boy!" Uncle James called, clapping his nephew on the back as he smiled in triumph at the good cast.

As soon as the man had spoken, something began tugging on Fred's line, and he gasped as he turned and held tightly onto the fishing pole. Uncle James exclaimed and grabbed it as well.

"Reel it in!"

It was the first time Fred had ever hooked a fish, and he was scared and excited simultaneously. If he let it go, he would never be able to stop berating himself. If he caught it, his uncle would never stop praising him. And yet he wasn't sure whether or not he could get the thing. His strength and his fishing knowledge would be tested to the limit, but if he reeled in this fish… if it was so strong they both had to hold onto the line, it would be huge, maybe, in Fred's young imagination, bigger than both of them combined.

Gently, he began reeling, getting stronger and stronger, going with the fish but at the same time pulling it closer and closer, making sure he didn't lose it but making sure it wasn't going to get away because of him being soft either…

The slimy creature burst from the water in a cascade of silver drops of water and Fred reached out and caught it expertly, in exactly the right place. Uncle James first got a bucket for the young boy to drop it into, and then started clapping and whistling, pulling his nephew into a delighted hug.

"What a catch, Freddy Jones!"

Fred squealed with childish delight, swaddled in his uncle's arms and with the fish in the bucket, swimming in agitated circles but beginning to calm and with no real harm done. His first ever catch with his uncle- and boy was he proud.

"Eight years old and look what you've got!" his uncle praised, measuring the fish with his eyes and whistling again. "That's a proper whopper, kiddo. What a catch! You're going to follow in my footsteps, you are. A real pro when you were pulling it in. I'm impressed."

He stood and picked up the bucket, smiling down at the boy and plucking his hat off Fred's head and placing it back onto his own with a flourish, bigging himself up.

"OK, kiddo. Let's go and see what we can do with this one."

The scent of the river and the fish and his uncle's cologne died in Fred's nostrils as he woke up, curled under his own duvet in his own house nine years after that had happened. He shuddered and shivered at the same time, and wondered if he was coming down with something; he didn't feel brilliant, his stomach was writhing and his heart was beating hard. But he didn't seem to be.

The dream had been so vivid; everything had been as it had been that day, when he had caught his first fish with his uncle. Even the glare of the sun on the water and the slightly haphazard scales of the fish had been the same. And yet it had been nine years since Fred had lost his uncle in an accident at his uncle's workplace. Surely the time to have these dreams would have been nine years ago, after his uncle's death?

He curled up again, glancing over at his alarm clock. One in the morning… there was no significance in the time, except that it was way too early for a lazy seventeen-year-old boy to be awake. He yawned, but when he closed his eyes his brain refused to go back to sleep.

"Why was it so… lifelike?" he murmured to himself, sitting up and giving up on sleep. His hand reached out and touched his ascot, hung proudly on the knob of his bedstead; his last gift from his uncle.

"I miss you, Uncle James," he murmured to himself almost absent-mindedly, his fingers running down the fabric which had been softened by the years but was still firmly intact. He remembered his uncle's words when it had been handed to him as a present and he had unwrapped it on his birthday: "Mine's lasted for a good thirty years, I have no doubt yours will do the same." Nine years down the line, the old ascot was still good, and the message from his uncle was still etched into the label as clear as day. _To Freddy, my nephew. I hope you will wear this, I know you will like it. From your uncle, James. _His eyes skimmed over it, not really taking it in but still reading it. By now, he knew it off by heart. His eyes took in one letter properly, and he smiled as he remembered his uncle teaching him to write and him only realising afterwards that he made out his "p"s in the same way as him, with a little flick at the end. That was probably why. It was familiar, and it was a comfort when he missed his uncle.

The soft wind hissing against the window panes changed suddenly, and Fred gasped as a familiar but now almost unknown sound abruptly entered his ears.

"_I have a message for you, nephew."_

Fred swerved round, looking for the speaker, but he could see no-one. The voice continued.

"_I will talk to you tomorrow night."_

And then it was gone.

Fred frowned down at his hands, uneasy and a little frightened. The voice had been his uncle's as plain as day. But nine years after his uncle's death? It was terrifying, not to mention impossible.

With the words echoing in his ears, Fred rolled over and slipped into an uneasy sleep, with his dreams bombarded with his uncle's words and the sight of his peaceful grave in the local graveyard being ripped open from the inside and decayed, rough-skinned fisherman's hands stretching towards Fred as he backed away with the words ringing over and over in his ears, now punctuated by sinister laughs.

It was no surprise to him that he woke up at sunrise lying on the floor next to his bed, with the ascot scrunched in his fingers and his head aching from its night of torment.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, I put a lot of A/Ns in… :P I have an idea of where this is going, and I know what I'm doing, so keep tuned, and thanks to Swamp Fairy, thebieberbabe and Hayles45 for their support, as well as Jazzola numero uno fan, whoever you are, for your sweet comments and very supportive name! I will write more soon… Jazzola


	2. Chapter 2

"Morning," Daphne said offhandedly as Fred walked into the lounge and got some coffee from the old espresso maker in the corner. Fred said hi back but his mind was buzzing with his dream the night before and a long yawn courtesy of his disturbed and sleepless night drew some attention from the redhead.

"You ill or something?"

She walked over and put her hand on his forehead, smirking as he drew away sharply.

"I'm fine. I was just… up late."

"That's not like you."

Fred had always been keen on getting enough sleep, especially since becoming a teenager. Late nights were OK once in a while, but they were in no way a habit of his. He shrugged as she directed the statement at him.

"Just had too much coffee for one night."

Daphne smiled, but she didn't believe him.

"What's up?" she asked, sitting down on the sofa next to him and taking an espresso for herself. He looked at her though slightly narrowed eyes, wondering if she would laugh at him.

"You can tell me," Daphne said gently as she saw the look on his face. "I won't make fun of you."

He smiled slightly and leaned back, taking care not to spill his espresso as he did so and raising it to his face to take a sip.

"I had a dream about my uncle James. The one who gave me this," he added, reaching up and flicking his ascot. Daphne smiled.

"I remember him. Go on."

"It was a dream of a fishing trip, the one when I caught my first fish. Everything was so real-life and vivid, it was like I really was there. I didn't think it was a dream. It was exactly as it had been, down to the trees and the fish scales and the smells of the river and my uncle's cologne and everything. I could actually feel his hat on my head, physically feel it. Every little bit was identical, and he said the same things, I did the same things- but I only realised it afterwards. At the time, it was like I was doing it for the first time ever, not like it was a repeat at all."

"Are you sure it wasn't just your imagination? We all know how vivid it is," Daphne teased, smirking again as he rolled his eyes at her and took another sip of espresso. It had been Fred's imagination and his story-telling that had made one sleepover so memorable- the entire gang, including Fred himself, had been frightened senseless by the story Fred had told seemingly being re-enacted by the shadows on the walls. Velma had actually wet herself with terror, something that none of the gang were ever going to forget but didn't tease her about. She was only ten at the time.

"It wasn't my imagination, no matter how vivid it is. It was real, it was all so real. And then, when I woke up, the wind outside changed into his voice and it told me that he had a message for me, he needed to tell me something. Explain that away."

Daphne blinked, surprised. It wasn't like Fred to say things like this.

"OK… I can't explain it, but I will. Are you sure it wasn't Mitchell? You said his voice is like your uncle James's."

"Certain. Mitchell's is deeper, and besides, he moved out when Ella became pregnant, you knew that."

Daphne nodded.

"Well… maybe you were still dreaming?"

"Since when has anyone dreamed waking up? It doesn't happen."

He had a point, and Daphne had to admit he was right.

"Well… I don't know. After seeing so many fake ghosts, it seems a little hard to believe that your uncle has come back as a ghost and is trying to tell you something, but I can't see any other logical explanation for this…"

She stopped and blushed as Fred laughed.

"OK, Velma. Point taken."

"Someone say my name?" Velma asked from the kitchen, poking her head round and seeing both members of Mystery Inc. on the sofa laughing. "What's so funny? Guys?"

"Nothing, nothing…" Daphne smiled, quietly treading on Fred's toe and stifling more giggles as he yelped.

"Hey! I didn't deserve that!"

He gave Velma a wounded look as she started laughing as well.

"Hey, whose side are you on?"

* * *

"Mom?"

"Yes, Freddy?"

Fred braced himself as he sat down on the sofa next to his mother, taking a deep breath and clasping his fingers in his lap. She didn't seem to notice his nervousness.

"You… you remember my uncle James?"

Mrs Jones gave a sad smile.

"Yes, I do. Ever the prankster when he was younger, and then he matured a bit. He was a great uncle to you, you spent so much time with him… Why?"

Fred took another deep breath.

"I… I had a dream about him last night, and I think he's- he's- trying to tell me something."

Fred held his breath as his mother turned, surprised.

"What's got into you? Of course he isn't, Freddy Jones, and you of all people should know that. Don't you say things like that in front of your father! Goodness gracious, I don't believe you! You had better keep this little chat between us."

Fred turned, defeated. He'd thought his mother might believe him, but every hope of that had been dashed in a few seconds.

"Thanks a lot, Mom." But he didn't say it loud enough for her to hear; there was no point, she either believed him or she didn't. He'd just have to find someone who did believe him.

But when he looked at the people he knew, he had to admit that there weren't that many who would. Velma- no. Dad- well, this wasn't a good topic to bring up with his uncle's brother, so no. Daphne had already said she wasn't sure. Shaggy- mm. Hard one. Probably not. Scooby- again, probably not.

Who did that leave? Himself. He was the only one left.

Mrs Jones reached out and tapped her son's shoulder, trying to get him to turn round, wondering if maybe she had been too harsh. It was nine years since he had lost his uncle, more or less, but it had been hard on him and he could be forgiven for wanting to hear his uncle's voice again. He couldn't have actually heard his uncle's voice or anything like that, it must have been his imagination or a dream; but all the same, she could have let him down more gently, and maybe he hadn't merited the telling off after all.

"Freddy?"

He ignored her, standing up and walking towards the stairs. He wasn't giving her the cold shoulder. He just badly needed to be on his own with his thoughts for a while.

"Freddy, answer me!"

Fred simply swiped his phone from the coffee table and ran up to his room.

"Alright then, have your little sulk," Mrs Jones yelled up the stairs, indignant at her son's treatment of her. "Like a little boy."

As she had expected, there was no reply, just the sound of his door closing softly.


	3. Chapter 3

A young girl, no more than fifteen or sixteen, stood in front of the Ohio Crags, her face in silhouette and only two strange bulges at the sides of her mouth showing clearly in the dim light of the crescent moon. Her eyes glowed violet despite the lack of illumination, and her skin was a peachy pink, her cheeks not even tinted but the same colour as the rest of the face. The moon highlighted a little crescent scar on her chin, which was the only blemish on the face; the rest was invisible. Her clothes were not the norm for teenage girls by a long way, but were a simple hooded top and jeans which were torn and mangled by use. She wore fingerless gloves on her slim, rough hands, and her feet were encased in shabby and dirty trainers. A lock or so of waist-length, startlingly red hair escaped from the hood, which was up, falling down across the girl's chest, which was not large but not quite flat.

The girl's violet irises followed the path of the crescent moon as she started walking towards the woodland behind the viewing platform, her movement somehow stealthy and graceful, like a puma or a stalking lion. She looked round as she walked, as though she was avoiding being tracked, and tried hard to become invisible, tucking her hair back into her hood and sticking her thin-fingered hands back into her pockets as she entered the shadowy embrace of the trees.

"Loszina?"

The girl turned sharply, and let her breath out in a gasping sigh.

"Myrrh… You scared me!"

A boy, not much older than Loszina, walked out from the shadows and towards her, a grin on his face which showed cat-like canine fangs on either side of his mouth, unnatural and yet clearly real. His face was cheeky, with a mop of dark curls on top, and had he not been dressed in a dark cloak and without those fangs, he would have looked normal, maybe even quite handsome. His freckle-covered cheeks scrunched cutely as he smiled, a smile that made his eyes light up.

"I was hoping to," Myrrh replied, making his smile even bigger. Loszina smiled back at him, with one hand on her chest, rubbing the skin above her heart gently.

"I don't need any more frights living here in these times, Myrrh."

"You know me, the eternal prankster, Zina," he replied, reaching out and putting his arm round her, marking her out as someone dear to him with the one simple gesture. She smiled and snuggled further into him.

"Myrrh, have there been any more developments?"

Myrrh sighed and took his arm away from Loszina, shaking his head.

"We're clueless still. The shamans have been doing all they can, but they say that the problem lies more in the domain of the druids. They're not being the most helpful."

Loszina reached out suddenly, unprompted, and touched the bark of the nearest tree, an old oak tree with withered branches and a bent, hunched posture, the sort of tree you could almost feel sorry for. A sound like a didgeridoo, sorrowful and haunting, throbbed from the tree, and Loszina drew her fingers away and sighed.

"The power is ebbing, Myrrh, and if we don't do something it will get worse and worse as it has done for these last nine years, without James to restore it and balance it. Perhaps he passed the skill on? Was he childless?"

"Yes," Myrrh said, sighing. "He always said that he would have liked a child of his own."

Loszina paused, something appearing to strike her from the inside.

"But… Myrrh, he did mention he had a nephew he was close to. Maybe the nephew could."

Myrrh nodded.

"It's worth a try. What's the boy's name?"

Loszina struggled to remember at first, but then the name came back.

"Frederick. He called him Freddy, from which I would derive that he has that name."

Myrrh looked round at the tree Loszina had touched, frowning slightly.

"Loszina, he is a twenty-first century boy, and therefore it will not be like it used to be with taking him. He will have friends, he will undoubtedly have relatives- and I wouldn't think he's that old either."

Loszina nodded.

"You're right. If memory serves, he will be seventeen now. Just out of school. Are we sure this is the only way?"

"Yes, and we will have to execute this very carefully. Nobody must know where he is, nobody must know where he is going and what he is doing, or anything to do with us. You know the rules. If we have trouble, you are a druid, you can sort it. The balance must be restored, or we are lost for good."

Loszina nodded.

"This seems almost… cruel, taking him and offering no explanation, no reason, no nothing. Maybe the shamans can do something, just until he is older… remember, were he a druid he would still be a child, morphing but still young."

Myrrh shook his head.

"It must be done. He is the key to the continuation of our existence, and unless you want the mana of the world to wane until there is none and we are finished, this is what needs to happen."

Loszina squared her slim shoulders, letting a strand or two of wild berry-red hair flop across her face and flicking it back like an impatient horse.

"Very well. It will be done, Myrrh. Stars guide you, and I would say may your mana be plentiful, but I cannot."

Myrrh nodded, and made a sign above his chest, fanning his hand out to look like a five-point star and thrusting his chin towards the heavens at the same time. Loszina made the sign back, and walked away as he vanished into the blackness of the wood.

Loszina raised her face to the sky, throwing back her hood and letting her curled-up hair snake down, fiery and thick enough to make rope.

In a second, a cloud of fiery black smoke, the sort you get from burning wood, covered her and barred her from view.

As it dissipated, a small red-furred cat slinked away, walking down the path and looking round tentatively with huge violet eyes.

The cat's mission would be near impossible for a real cat. But for a druidess, it was all too possible.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I apologise for my poor knowledge of American football, but living as I do in England I don't really watch it. Over here, football is played with the ball only touching the person's feet. XD Still, enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review!

Fred toyed with his fork in front of the TV, with a game on the screen and his father cheering in the armchair. Fred's thoughts weren't on the game, a rare occurrence for him; they were on his uncle and the dream and the unfairness of nobody believing him, which was churning in his stomach like rancid milk and making it writhe uncomfortably when he even so much as thought about the food on the plate in front of him.

"COME ON OHIO!" screamed Mr Jones, leaping up from his chair at the sound of the Ohio mascot drums starting up. Fred barely glanced at the screen, his mind's eye too full of his uncle's face next to the river and his other senses recalling the smell of the river and the feel of the fisherman's hat and the taste of the chewing gum they always took with them and the sound of the water rushing and his uncle's voice, first next to the river and then carried on the wind…

"Freddy? Freddy? Freddy!"

Fred jumped as though an explosion had sounded behind him and swerved to look at his father, who was staring at him with a puzzled look on his face.

"Are you OK?"

Fred nodded, standing up. The atmosphere in the lounge tensed.

"I'm just going to go for a walk around the block, is that OK?"

Mr Jones looked worried.

"Take your cell phone, and don't be too long, OK? You know the kinds that hang around on the streets this time of night, I don't want you assaulted or robbed."

Fred smiled. The last gang of boys who had tried to rob him had regretted it, thanks to his football experience. He hadn't had a finger laid on him since by those of their ilk.

"I will, Dad."

"Be back before ten or I'm phoning 911," his father warned him, opening the door and watching as Fred got his jacket and phone and slid his arms into the jacket. "Not your cell phone, 911."

Fred nodded and walked out.

The cool night air was a comfort to Fred as he walked slowly past the spot of the attempted robbery a couple of months before. He smiled at seeing the dent in the metal fence as he walked, the memory coming back of them running off and him just standing there and laughing. One of them had had a jack-knife. He'd just knocked it out of the guy's hand, and it was still lying in the dirt next to the pavement. He nudged it with the toe of his shoe and carried on walking, his head down and his hand on his phone in his pocket, despite his reputational protection.

He didn't see something flash past behind a wire fence.

His thoughts still were focused on his uncle and his dream and the injustice from his family and friends. He hadn't told Velma, but she had found out via Daphne and texted him, asking if it was true and quite scornful, although she didn't accuse him of lying or anything like that. He had accepted the following call, but had hung up on her in a huff after she went a little too far by saying he should have grown out of childish fantasies. She had sent him a couple of texts afterwards saying sorry, but he had ignored them, making out she was a wannabe cyber-bully to his parents when they became curious, and she had given up, calling Daphne instead. It hadn't been a good night for the gang.

A shadow flitted past him, showing in the cracks of a wooden fence.

Fred was still dwelling on his uncle's words; what did he mean, "I have a message for you" and "I will talk to you tomorrow night"? They seemed crystal-clear messages to someone who didn't know the full context of them, but to Fred they were almost illegible. What kind of message could James Jones have ever had for Fred at the time of his death? And how was he going to "talk" to Fred? Fred shuddered thinking of that one, despite the fact that he knew his uncle loved him and wouldn't do anything that could possibly hurt him. Mental images of his uncle, translucent and hovering above the floor, flew through his head, as well as pictures of Ouija boards and women sitting in chairs with their hands above their heads and crystal balls on the tables in front of them. He smiled to himself and kicked a Coke can into the gutter, the clatter echoing through the empty and eerily quiet streets. Fred frowned down one alleyway, thinking of the attack on him; normally the area would be rife with gangs at this time of night, and it was almost unnatural that the area was empty. Where was everyone?

A small amount of grey smoke caught his attention, wafting from between two bins in a garbage recess. He skirted away from it and narrowed his eyes at the bins, trying to figure out if there was a fire or something in one of them. The bins were normal. His eyes still narrowed in suspicion and concern, he turned and started to head home, beginning to feel creeped out by just everything; the absence of people, his uncle and the dream, and the smoke from the garbage recess…

A hand shot out and grabbed his arm, and another clapped itself over his mouth, hastily stifling his scream and pulling him down onto the pavement, knocking his head hard against the tarmac and stunning him for a vital second. Fred began struggling with all his might against the hands that were now binding his wrists, wondering if this was some kind of prank, organised by the gang he had triumphed over, and beginning to panic.

Then his phone was pulled out of his pocket and taken, pushed hastily into another as something tied round his face. He yelped and fought harder and harder, trying with all his might to get the blindfold off, but it was no use. It was there for good.

"Be calm. Lie still."

A calm, female voice found its way to Fred's ears, murmuring words of comfort, and he kicked out with his foot, trying to find the source of the voice. It continued, and his foot made contact with nothing.

"I am not here to harm you. I am here to take you somewhere. I appreciate that it will be hard leaving your family and friends, but I must ask you not to try and run away, because you are needed, Fred Jones."

"How does she know my name?" Fred asked himself, now beyond panic and into downright meltdown. "She took my cell… Dad… Mom… Daph… and I only just fought with Velms and she'll never know what happened… guys… Shag… Scoob… Let me go! I don't want to go with you!"

"Not even for your uncle, Fred?"

Fred's first thought was "How did she know what I was thinking?" The second was "Wait… How does she know about my uncle?"

His body froze as he thought, which gave the girl opportunity to tie his ankles. Fred cursed himself for falling for the cheap tactics as he lay motionless on the ground, knowing that it would be fruitless to struggle and that he was taken for good.

"_Rameesha teklariti._"

Fred felt himself being raised into the air, although by what he had no idea. Fingers scrabbled at his mouth suddenly and he felt something being pushed to the back of his throat, past the point of no return.

"Swallow it or you will choke," the girl said calmly, and Fred saw no choice but to swallow it. Almost as soon as he had, his eyes closed and he felt his brain falling into a deep sleep.

The girl's voice floated in his head as he battled to stay awake and lost the battle, with her last sentence being the last thing he heard.

"My name is Loszina."


	5. Chapter 5

"Someone's calling you, you got a phone call, baby, so you better pick it up, you got a phone call- baby, please pick-"

Daphne's new ringtone was cut short by her pressing the button and accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Daphne, it's Penny Jones here. I was wondering if you know where Freddy is? He's gone missing, and we called his cell but he didn't answer and I don't even think it was on. He left last night, and Sam told him to be back by ten or he'd call 911 and he's not back so Sam did and they said he'd probably run away or something, but he only had his jacket and his cell and I checked his room and everything's there-"

"Mrs Jones, could you repeat everything you just said, but slowly enough for me to understand?" Daphne asked, cutting into the woman's speech, and she heard Mrs Jones take a deep, slow breath before beginning to talk again at normal speed.

"Freddy's gone missing. He left the house nine-thirty last night and he hasn't come back. He took his cell and we called it but I think it was switched off. Sam called 911 and they said it was likely he'd run away. They're looking for him but there's nothing so far. Do you know where he is?"

"No, I don't," Daphne murmured, an icy feeling beginning to steal over her. "Have you tried everywhere he goes?"

"Yes. Football training field, malt shop, your gang tree-house from when you were little, his uncle's grave…"

"Wait. He was talking about his uncle yesterday, wasn't he?" Daphne said, mainly to herself, but Mrs Jones answered.

"He said something to me as well. He said he'd had a dream about him and that he thought his uncle was trying to tell him something, but I told him not to be so silly. Oh my goodness, maybe that's why he ran away, because we didn't believe him! He seemed so certain when he said it, and maybe he is and- oh, Daphne, I drove him to run away! I must be the worst mother in the world. What am I going to do?"

Daphne stayed silent, thinking this over. Maybe nobody had believed Fred so he had run off to get away from them for a while? He had threatened to run away before, even packing a suitcase once aged thirteen before Daphne and Velma had stopped him. But he was seventeen now. Surely he wouldn't run away for something as trivial as this? That was what her gut instinct was telling her, but the situation said otherwise right now.

"I don't think he's run away for something as small as this, but I don't really know. Are you sure you've checked everywhere?"

"Positive," Mrs Jones sniffed, and although she obviously couldn't see her Daphne could tell she was wiping her eyes.

"I'll be over in a minute. We can talk this over and look together."

"Thank you, Daphne. You're an angel."

Daphne smiled at the phone as she rang off, but her smile faded as she thought of Fred's actions and what could have happened to him. A hundred scenarios, each one worse than the last, flitted through her head, but she shook them off and headed for the door, grabbing her bag on the way and for once barely pausing to look in the mirror.

* * *

"Oh…"

Fred slowly opened his eyes, his head thumping like a samba drum. There was a vile, bitter taste in his dry mouth and his neck had started to cramp from lying awkwardly. He coughed, dust from the air getting into the back of his throat, and sat up cautiously, looking round. He was in some kind of dilapidated and forest-style hut, with a flap for a door and the shadow of someone standing outside. As he watched, the silhouette turned and its hand reached for the flap, about to open it and see him. Fred gulped and backed away slightly as the tatty fabric was pulled back and someone entered the hut.

It wasn't the girl who had taken Fred: it was a boy about his own age, with a thatch of dark hair springing on his skull in tight curls. He was dressed in some kind of cloak and with a T-shirt with Che Guevara on and tattered grey slacks underneath. The boy's clothes were so strange Fred could feel himself staring and hurriedly dropped his gaze to the floor. For some reason, when the boy raised his hands, slipping inside the hut, Fred's headache vanished.

"Frederick Jones?"

Fred nodded, wincing at his full name, which was only ever used if he was in trouble or being teased.

"You dislike your name? Your uncle called you Freddy. Would you prefer that name?"

Fred looked up sharply.

"You knew my uncle?"

The boy dropped his eyes to the floor and made some kind of sign, putting his hand on his chest and spreading his fingers out while pushing his chin up sharply.

"We were… close. Very close, your uncle and me. He was a good man, and he helped me and my people a lot. We hope you can be the same, but I will get onto that in a minute."

"Why am I here?" Fred demanded as the boy looked up at him again, slight surprise in his eyes.

"You don't know what your uncle was?"

Fred drew his breath in, but at that second someone put their head into the hut and the boy looked round. The head was covered by a mask of plant and tree bark, and when the person behind it spoke, they spoke in a strange language that Fred had never heard before. The boy replied in it swiftly and turned back to Fred.

"I need to go for a little while, but I will be back soon, I promise. My name is Myrrh; if you need me, come out. My friend Loszina will also help you should you need help. There is food and water for you under the cloth there," he added, motioning to the small heap in the corner, but Fred's eyes had sharpened at the mention of the name Loszina.

"Loszina- she was the one who took me!"

"That's right," Myrrh said, ducking out of the tent. "And I will tell you why soon. For now, drink and nourish yourself. I will be back soon."

And then he was gone, leaving Fred alone in the hut with his irresolute mind and a thousand unanswered questions.

* * *

"You say he's simply missing? No note in the bedroom, no hints, no strange behaviour, nothing?"

"Strange behaviour, yes; he was in a world of his own during the match we watched together before he disappeared, and that is not like Fred," Mr Jones said, sighing and sitting down next to his wife. The police officer in charge of the search for Fred was taking notes of the answers to his questions and the lounge was filled with Fred's immediate family and four-fifths of Mystery Inc. The officer made a note and snapped his notebook shut, standing up as he did so.

"I'm not really sure what else we can do but keep an eye out, Mr Jones. I'm sorry."

The Joneses bowed their heads. Velma leaned her chin on her hand and sighed with frustration, wishing that she knew where Fred was and regretting arguing with him over what she should have guessed was a very delicate issue.

"We'll keep searching," Mrs Jones said in a resolute voice as the door shut after the officer. "We'll find him. Maybe James will guide us to him."

She looked up at the photo of James on the mantelpiece, above the fireplace.

"Please, James. He was always your favourite. So help us find him."


	6. Chapter 6

The food and drink in the hut weren't unpleasant, but it was strange to Fred, some kind of plant and water with an odd earthy taste, nothing like the filter water he drank at home. His throat ached from thirst for a while after drinking it, but gradually it had its effect and he didn't feel so parched.

Looking around through a couple of gaps in the frayed material covering parts of the hut, Fred guessed that he was in the area of woodland about fifteen miles away from his house. When he was young his parents would take him for walks here, sticking to the path and telling him to do the same but letting him play with Mitchell in the undergrowth as long as they were supervised. They always said there were strange people in the woods, and Fred's overactive imagination had conjured up cat creatures and trolls and clans of voodoo witches in the large, seemingly docile piece of woodland. Ever since they had told him that, he had been a little apprehensive of the woods, but he didn't quite believe them. Now it seemed they might have been right.

"Freddy?"

Myrrh poked his head back into the tent, slipping in on his hands and knees.

"What?" Fred asked, more aggressively than he intended it to be. Myrrh raised his eyebrows, which despite his age were silver.

"I accept that you may be annoyed with us, but there is no need to be aggressive. Nobody is aggressive here."

Fred looked away from Myrrh's dark brown piercing gaze.

"I just want to know why I'm here and what you want with me."

Myrrh sat down next to him, folding his legs under him in a position any normal person would have found uncomfortable but Myrrh seemed to prefer to sitting with his legs crossed or out in front of him. Fred was curious about it, but more so as to the story Myrrh was presumably about to tell him.

"We are the Arruichi clan of shamans and druids. We live using mana- it gives us our powers. Mana is not a physical thing; it travels through the air and finds a home in the hearts of those who use it. We have to undergo rituals to be able to take mana and use it. You have mana as well- all humans do- but you cannot use it, it exists in the form of warmth for you, nestling on your skin. We harness it and use it. As I said before, we are shamans and druids in our clan. Shamans use their powers to provide nature with her tools- they plant trees, they vitalise plants, they purify water, and they care for animals. Druids are shape-shifters; they can change into animals at will, as long as they have mana. I am a druid, so I should say we. Your uncle, James, was what we call a Mana-Bringer; he helped with mana and kept it regulated.

"Recently, the mana in this area has been depleted. James used to help us when the mana levels were falling; he would perform rituals to help us bring it back and make it stable again. The mana has been suffering ever since his death. We didn't think there were any more Mana-Bringers in the area who could help us- but then we thought of you.

"Previously, we had thought you would be too young, we decided you should stay where you were. The mana would last, we thought. But it didn't, and it is steadily and rapidly declining. You have the gift from your uncle; the shamans can tell a Mana-Bringer, and they recognised you as one. We didn't know if you were, but you are and we know that for certain now. We need your help. You have the ability to regulate the mana, and therefore you must help us. We do not intend to keep you here forever; we just hope that, for your uncle's sake, you would help us."

"Why can't I tell my parents and my friends where I am?" Fred asked, feeling a little stunned and so going for the simplest question he had right now. The others could come later. Myrrh shook his head.

"You would ask them to come and find you. We cannot have our sacred ground trampled and desecrated by uncaring twenty-first-century feet. Bringing you here was risky enough; the forest doesn't like your people and your modern equipment. Did you never wonder why your uncle seemed so behind the times?"

"He had a cell phone," Fred replied, still a little in shock at everything he was being told. "He wasn't like a cave-dweller."

"He never told me that," Myrrh replied evenly, unfolding his long, lanky legs and standing up.

"Wait. Can I just- can I have my phone back just to let them know I'm safe?" Fred asked, seeing that the boy was about to leave. Anger and frustration and anxiety flared in his chest thinking of his situation and his parents, which seemed to crash down onto him suddenly.

Myrrh shook his head.

"We left the phone outside the home glade. Loszina hid it- it is safe. She will tell your parents and your friends that you are OK but it will be a while until you come home. They will be told not to worry, that you are in safe hands."

"They still will worry," Fred replied swiftly, standing up and ducking slightly to avoid hitting his head. Myrrh stood as well, putting his hands on Fred's shoulders and closing his eyes. He seemed to radiate calmness for a second, and Fred felt the fury and annoyance and worry pent up inside him relax and subside, letting his head clear for a few seconds.

And then Myrrh retracted his hands and walked away.

"No- no- _wait!_"

But Myrrh didn't; he left, walking away and firmly closing the flaps on the tent as he walked.

Fred sat back on his haunches, thinking hard, reaching up and tugging slightly at his ascot, a habit that came on when he was stressed or unsure or annoyed. One, he wanted to leave and walk away, go back to his friends and family, who he was missing already. Two, he wanted to ask these people what being a Mana-Bringer really meant, and whether he would have to stay with them for the rest of his life and whether they would curse him or something if he left. Three, he wanted to strangle his uncle for dying and leaving him in this mess, even though he knew that was unfair and James's death wasn't his fault. And four, he wanted to reassure his family, even via his phone, just to let them know he was OK and he hadn't left the state and he was in fairly safe- although wacky from what he had seen so far- hands.

The emotions and wants and confusion and questions swam round in his stomach and head like a raging river rapid of chaos, and his head started aching from the strain of it all. They had kidnapped him, probably all of Ohio was looking for him now, and his parents would be out of their minds and so would his friends and Velma especially would feel guilty after fighting with him and not having a chance to make it up, but then they only wanted his help and they had known his uncle and they could tell him more about this and despite the situation he was intrigued by all these shamans and druids and overall Mana-Bringers. He had only ever seen shamans and druids in video games, and he wanted to know more about them.

Myrrh put his head back in the tent and smiled at Fred.

"You calmed down, then?"

"Huh?"

"Druids can read emotions and moods." His face split into a huge grin at the look on Fred's face. "Come on, you're wanted. I'd brush your hair out a little if I was you, it looks a bit messy."

"But who wants to meet me?"

Surely all the people in this clan wouldn't want to meet him in person or anything like that? Myrrh smiled again at his confusion.

"Come on, Freddy. Who's the one person in this clan who would really like to see you?"

Fred shook his head, puzzled still. Myrrh moved back and opened the flap for Fred to walk out of the hut.

"Come on, Freddy. Wouldn't you like to see your uncle?"


	7. Chapter 7

"What we can do is we can track the last place where Fred's cell phone was known to be switched on," Police Officer Kent said, putting his hand on Mrs Jones's shoulder as she leaned against her husband slightly. Fred had been missing for nearly forty-eight hours and his parents were becoming hysteric.

"Just anything that'll bring him back," Mrs Jones said softly, closing her eyes for a minute and falling back to lie on the sofa. Mr Jones stroked her thick blonde hair, so much like his and his son's, and turned to the officer.

"We need him back. He's only seventeen. I know legally he's an adult now, but you said yourselves that there was a sign of a struggle where his wallet was found and you have to say this is suspicious. Please can you upgrade this to a formal missing person search instead of making out he's a runaway?"

"I can only do so much," the man said gently, standing up and walking to the door. "But I will do my best."

Nobody noticed a shadow slip past just before the door opened and the man walked away.

"We'll find him, Penny," Mr Jones said gently as his wife began sobbing, tears of frustration and anxiety and overall tears of a mother missing her son. "James will lead us to him."

"But he hasn't yet," Penny whispered through her tears, her cheeks swollen and blotchy from crying and the bump of Fred's wallet showing through her cardigan pocket. It had been in her pocket ever since Officer Kent had given it to her an hour or so ago; the wallet had been the reason for his visit.

"Then we'll find him," Mr Jones soothed, leaning down and kissing her damp cheek. "We'll do it. He can't be far. All we have to do is become detectives, like him."

The doorbell rang suddenly, smashing the delicate quietness in the room. Mr Jones stood up.

"It's probably a neighbour or one of the gang, wanting an update."

He opened the door to reveal a teenage girl, about fifteen or sixteen, with ragged clothes and two strange and clearly unnatural bulges on either side of her mouth.

Mr Jones had barely had time to clock her strange appearance when she had reached out and put her hand on his arm.

"Mr Sam Jones?"

Mr Jones frowned in puzzlement, his eyebrows drawing together but his expression not malevolent.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"I am helping you. My name is Loszina. Your son is safe. I took him, but I did not do it to harm him. It is to do with your brother and his secrets."

"He… he's not been ransomed or anything, has he?"

"No, he isn't being ransomed. We simply need him for a while. He will not be harmed at all, but I cannot tell you where he is."

"Tell me! He's my son!" Mr Jones thundered, grabbing Loszina's arm and refusing to let go. Loszina gave him a calm smile.

"One day he will be able to tell you. And then you will understand."

A huge cloud of dark smoke engulfed the doorstep as Mr Jones felt Loszina's arm vanish from under his. He grabbed at the air, coughing slightly, but the girl was gone.

As he stepped out, looking for her, he saw a thickly-furred red cat's tail swing out of sight behind a tree trunk.

* * *

"My… my _uncle_?"

Fred stared at Myrrh as though he was a madman, his face incredulous.

"My uncle's dead! How can I talk to him?"

"Only his body is dead," Myrrh replied swiftly, pulling Fred out of the tent after him. The people clustered outside stared at him, muttering amongst themselves in their incomprehensible native tongue. Fred felt his cheeks grow hot and looked down, hating being the absolute centre of attention.

"Wait. What are you taking me to see?"

"Who. Your uncle," Myrrh corrected him, not letting up. He was now striding towards a little tunnel of tree branches. Fred yanked back and pulled his arm out of Myrrh's grasp.

"What is my uncle now? Is he a ghost? What is he?"

"He is a spirit of the wood," Myrrh said, reaching back and putting his hand on Fred's shoulder as he had done before. His calming influence flowed into Fred, but the teenager wasn't going to give in that easily and stepped back.

"I want to know what I'm going to see."

The whole concept of seeing his uncle again was creeping him out; he wanted to know what to expect. Myrrh sensed his hesitation.

"He looks just as your uncle did before he died. The only difference is that you can only just see him, him being a spirit of this wood."

"If he's still here, why can't he do this mana thing?"

"He no longer has the ability to harness or even touch mana, seeing as he is made of it. That which is made of mana repels mana. It is simple, every child in our camp is told that from the earliest age possible. I am surprised you did not know."

"How could I know? I've never been here before," Fred said, irritation beginning to build in him again. Myrrh, sensing it with his druid ability, sighed and pulled on Fred's arm again, bringing him forwards and through the tunnel to the little dark glade at the other end.

"Spirit of James Jones, we have come," Myrrh called, his deep voice echoing through the area. The silence after it was almost deafening. And then it was broken.

"Who are you?" came a voice.

Fred's knees almost buckled underneath him as he recognised the voice; his uncle, his uncle whom he had lost years and years ago. He had never thought he existed anymore.

"It is I, Myrrh, with your nephew," Myrrh replied, and the voice gasped and something moved in the corner of the glade.

"Do you see him, Freddy?" Myrrh asked, directing Fred's gaze to the movement and reaching out with his hand, sending a bolt of light towards the area. Fred flinched as it made contact with something, but the something barely even moved, simply turning and showing itself to Fred in even greater clarity.

Fred stared at the apparition, his eyes rounder and wider than they'd ever been and his heart thudding so hard his chest tingled.

It was his uncle, as clear as day- and yet something was different, some aspect of him. His body was transparent and slightly hard to focus on, and his eyes glowed instead of being normal eyes that were just reflective. But it was something apart from the way he looked. Maybe it was the fact that Fred hadn't seen him for so long, but he had a feeling it was more to do with the fact that his uncle was now made completely of mana and no part of him was actually physically there.

"Freddy? Is it- is it really you? It's been so long since I last saw you… My boy… Oh my goodness, Myrrh, thank you…"

He rushed over, seeming to glide a little but approaching, and stood in front of his nephew, smiling at him.

"Freddy…"

Fred looked back into his uncle's eyes. They were glowing so hard he almost had to look away. The look of joy on his uncle's face was radiant, and he reached out with one hand to try and take his nephew's hand. Fred shrunk away, unsure and nervous of his uncle and not really knowing why. James withdrew his hand and stood still for a second, also hesitant suddenly, and then stepped back, using his body language to convey that Fred could approach him or leave.

Fred couldn't hold himself in any more. He bolted from the glade, hiding his face as he ran further and further into the woodland, away from the settlement and Myrrh and Loszina and overall his uncle, and eventually tripped and fell head-first into a thatch of undergrowth, ripping his clothing and his skin but no longer feeling the pain. He stayed there, hiding himself as someone walked by, whether one of the clan or just a normal walker he didn't know, and allowed himself to start sobbing, tears of confusion and dread and nervousness and grief and anxiety and of missing his family and friends.

He only wanted one thing; to get back to Ohio and leave all this behind. It had almost been better thinking that his uncle was dead and that was the end of it than it had been knowing that he was a spirit in woodland not far away from Fred's own home. He wished none of this had happened so hard his heart felt like it would burst.

After what could have been a lifetime, since Fred had lost track of all time, he stood and pulled himself away from the thorns and bush at his feet, starting to walk towards the path.

He would go home. These people could find someone else. This was not something he wanted to be involved in any more.

But every step whispered that he was betraying his uncle. Every step screamed in his head for him to go back.

Falling onto a bench and covering his face with his tattered jacket, Fred let himself fall into a light and troubled sleep, punctuated by Loszina and Myrrh and his uncle's translucent face in the moonlight.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, we did have a half-day at school but my friend came round mine unexpectedly… it's up now, anyway. REVIEW PLEASE! Jazzola


	8. Chapter 8

"Freddy… Freddy…"

Fred's eyes opened slowly. He was in his own bed, still in his clothes but warm and safe. His mother's anxious face was above him, and he could feel Daphne's hand on his, holding it tightly. For some reason, despite the fact that the bedside clock was saying it was the middle of the day, the curtains were drawn and the light was on rather than letting daylight into the room.

"Mom? Dad? Daph?"

Mrs Jones promptly burst into tears at the sound of her son's voice, which was a little raspy but recognisably his.

"Freddy… darling… we thought you were gone for ever…"

Fred reached out and put his hand on his mother's arm, trying to calm her down as she sobbed.

"Mom, relax, I'm OK."

"You could have caught hypothermia, the police said we should have taken you to hospital but you said no, remember?"

"No." Fred struggled to remember saying anything of the sort. His last memory was falling asleep on the bench in the woods with tear tracks on his cheeks just after seeing his uncle. Experimentally, he put a hand up to his face to see if they were still there; his fingers found a small cut on his chin from a bramble and a little bristle, but otherwise nothing. The tear tracks were gone. And so was he, from the woods and from Myrrh and Loszina and above all his uncle. Before he had lost consciousness it was all he had wanted. Now he wished he was still there, despite the fact that he was glad his parents had gotten their son back. He guessed there had been quite a few tears shed in the household after he went missing.

"Is he awake? Properly?"

A young man in his early twenties walked in, seeing his brother's eyes open and smiling at him.

"Hello, Freddy. Been a while since I last saw the whites of your eyes. You tried waking up a couple of hours ago, but you were out after another ten minutes."

"Hi Mitchell," Fred murmured, pushing himself up on his pillows. There were about eight behind him, despite the fact that he slept with three and didn't ever have more or less. His mother had clearly been mother-henning again. "Why're you here?"

"Hmm, let's think. My brother mysteriously goes missing at night on a walk around the block, everyone in Ohio is going mad looking for him, the police are drawing complete blanks and my mom's about to have a breakdown because she thinks she's lost her son. Heck, we all thought we'd lost you, Frederick."

Fred winced at the mention of his full name.

"Please don't call me that."

"You're Frederick when you're in trouble, and right now you are," Mitchell replied almost instantly, plonking himself down next to the bed and poking Fred in the side. Fred winced but tried not to let his brother see. "You're in so much trouble for making me come down here from West Virginia and losing me money and making me drag Ella and Tom down here as well. I'm going to punch you until there's no breath left in your scrawny little body."

"I'm an inch taller than you."

"And I've got a man-belly, you've just got a pathetic excuse for a six-pack," Mitchell taunted.

"Better than you'll ever get," Fred whipped back, yanking his sweater off and throwing it down on the floor as he felt himself getting too hot. Mrs Jones picked it up, sighing, but she was too relieved that Fred was OK to tell him off. She and Mr Jones walked out downstairs as someone called for them, presumably Ella.

"If you boys are done?" Daphne asked. Mitchell grinned.

"Do the lovebirds need some time to themselves? I can take a hint. Mom's cooked up a feast downstairs, so I'm going. Don't come down smeared with lipstick, kid, Mommy'll realise what you've been up to."

He flinched at the glares he received from the pair.

"OK, OK. I'm only teasing, Freddy. No need for that."

He walked out as his name was also called and Daphne looked over at Fred.

"Is he always like that?"

"That's why I never asked for us to meet up at my place," Fred sighed, jerking his thumb at Mitchell's back as he walked down the stairs. Daphne giggled.

"I did wonder. So. Where were you? Who took you?"

Fred opened his mouth, intending to tell Daphne everything. All he had learned about Loszina and Myrrh and his uncle and the woodland was about to come pouring out.

But something stopped him. Something deep inside, something that was also telling him that he needed to return to that woodland and hear out the people there.

Fred paused, and then started speaking.

"I can't remember much. I think I was knocked out for most of the time. They took me in a van, a Transit or something like that, and then I escaped from the house they were holding me in. It was near the woodland. So I ran into the woodland and lost them. They said they were going to hold me to ransom, I guess I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. They've still got my cell phone." At least that much was true. "I guess I'll just get a new one."

Daphne wrapped her arms round him, a tear beginning to run down her face.

"Oh my goodness, poor you… Freddy… Oh, I hate them!"

Fred held her back, the guilt now settling in his stomach threatening to overwhelm him.

"I'm OK, Daph. I'm fine, really. Just tired."

She smiled at him and jumped as her name was called from downstairs.

"That's my mom… I'm sorry, Freddy, I've got to go, she said I had to be home an hour ago but I overstayed here by helping Ella with Tom and then you woke up. One minute, Mom! Come on, you said I could stay a little longer if he woke up and he has!"

Elizabeth Blake made an annoyed noise from downstairs, but was distracted by Tom, who had started stroking her new black faux fur coat while she was calling up to Daphne. Daphne giggled as she heard her mother complaining about sticky fingers on the faux fur and then was told, slightly angrily, by Ella that Tom had only just washed his hands and her coat was fine.

"I just wanted one more minute with you, seeing as you're awake now."

They sat in silence until Daphne's mother knocked on the door and Daphne sighed and gathered her things, which were strewn over Fred's dresser.

"I'll see you tomorrow, maybe, although you might be tied up with police things and your mom'll be fussing over you."

Fred nodded and smiled at her as she left.

As soon as she was gone and he heard the gate swing shut after her and her mother, he pushed the duvet away and stood up, slightly shakily. For the first time, he saw the cuts and grazes on his arms and neck, caused by the run from the glade. Wincing, he pressed a finger to one of the larger ones and whipped it away quickly.

The mirror on the back of his wardrobe door showed him the cuts and injuries as he shoved on a T-shirt and customary white top and his jeans under them.

He didn't know why he felt so strongly this way, but he did.

He had to go back.

* * *

"You say he ran?"

Loszina was coming to terms with the fact that Fred was gone and there was no real prospect of him coming back soon if what Myrrh was saying was right.

"Just after he saw his uncle. Maybe it was a bad idea, Loszina. I don't know. I guess it would be hard on anybody, but my senses all told me he was ready… Maybe he was but he wasn't ready for all the implications and that on top of it all scared him away. This is all my fault, Zina, blame me."

"Don't be so silly, Myrrh," Loszina replied crisply, standing up and facing the sunset with her features in shadow and only the bulges of her long canine teeth showing clearly. "He will return when he is ready. It may be a while, and we may have to find some way of regulating the mana until his return, but well, we'll have to."

"No you won't," a voice said from behind them.

Both Loszina and Myrrh swerved round and stared at the newcomer.

Fred stood behind them, his head hung slightly but his eyes full of fire, with a rucksack hung on his shoulder and new clothes. Loszina's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Myrrh's eyes lost a little of their roundness, and it was replaced by puzzlement.

"Why did you return? Not that we are sad you did, but after you ran we thought you would leave forever."

"I… I over-reacted. I just wasn't ready. And I needed to see my parents again, and my friends, and reassure them. Although not all of them were there. I left a note for them and said I'd be back soon, so this better not take long or I'll have to go back again."

"It won't," Loszina said comfortably, walking forwards and placing her hand on Fred's rucksack-less shoulder. Fred felt the warmth and comfortableness run through his body again and relaxed a little.

"Why don't you bring your things and follow me," Myrrh said softly, beckoning. Loszina released Fred and he gave her a small smile, took his rucksack in his hand and followed Myrrh back to the now-familiar little hut in the glade.

A/N: Sorry that took so long, I've been on WoW for a while and I had writer's block so I was trying to WoW it off and it didn't work very well… ah well, it's up now. As always, read and review and I hope you enjoyed it! Jazzola


	9. Chapter 9

"All you have to do is bond with the mana, tell it of your presence, and gradually become its ally and take control of its flow. If you are allied with the mana, you will be able to regulate it. James was good at it, a good ally of the mana."

To any normal person's ears this would have sounded like complete weirdo mumbo-jumbo, something laughable; maybe they would have laughed after hearing it. To Fred, after three days in the Arruichi camp, listening in to Myrrh and Loszina's conversations and the general talk in the camp that he could understand (most of it was in the unfamiliar and slightly primitive native tongue), it sounded almost normal. He moodily flicked his phone up and down, watching as the screen lit up and the keypad became clearly visible in the evening gloom and then the light vanished and it was a small lump of indistinguishable plastic. Loszina had given it back on the condition that Fred had to go out of the camp to use it and it had to be left behind a boulder away from the camp each time. So far his training was going well; the reason his phone hadn't run out of battery was because he was channelling mana into the battery to keep it working.

"Fred, are you listening to me?"

"Yes," Fred lied, turning the phone off and placing it back in its plastic container behind the boulder. Loszina raised her hands and it became invisible.

"I sense that you are not quite being truthful with me. We are not normal people as in the people you are used to, Fred; we can read your thoughts should we need to. I can read your body like an open book. Thoughts of home? Your friends? I am sorry that you have to be separated from them, but needs must, I am afraid."

Fred nodded, still thinking of home and the gang. He had texted them, told them he was OK and explained that should they come looking for him they wouldn't find anything. The shamans had cast an enchantment over the glade and the village to make it inaccessible and invisible to any visitors shortly after Fred's return. Daphne had protested, as he had expected, and it was with a heavy heart that Fred had agreed to carry on training after the two-day mark.

"Fred!"

His thoughts were interrupted as he almost walked into a tree, lost in his thoughts. Loszina put her palm on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

"I'm just thinking, that's all."

Loszina looked deep into his eyes and he looked away quickly. She sighed and walked up towards the glade with him trailing behind.

Myrrh was standing at the entrance to the glade, his arms folded and a serious expression on his face.

"Fred. I have been visiting James."

A hypothetical but very realistic icicle dropped into Fred's stomach.

"Yes?"

"He wants to see you. Badly. As he is the only Mana-Bringer here, despite the fact that he is a spirit, he wants to explain to you himself what being a Mana-Bringer means. He also wants to hear what's happened in your family for the last nine years, since his death. It is only natural, Fred. I beg you to accept my invitation."

Fred leaned back against a tree trunk, insides in turmoil, although that feeling was beginning to get more and more familiar. Accept or decline. See the uncle he had thought was lost or forget about him, although his presence would always be there. Hear about being a Mana-Bringer from an inside source or be told by people who had been told; second-hand knowledge from people who had no experience of the subject they were talking about. The choice, stark and uninviting whichever way he looked at it, was his.

"I guess… I guess seeing him would be better than not seeing him."

Myrrh patted his shoulder with the back of his hand. Loszina looked relieved.

"We go tomorrow morning," Myrrh said gently, turning and allowing Fred privacy. When you're surrounded by people who can read your moods and thoughts, it's a hard thing to have. "You had better make yourself ready."

Fred nodded, his face once again showing that he was deep in thought, and slid into the little hut which housed his rucksack and sleeping bag, already psyching himself up.

Loszina watched him go with a strange look on her face.

"Do you think we have pushed him into this too soon, Myrrh?"

Myrrh shook his head, midnight-black curls flinging themselves everywhere.

"He is ready. We would know if he was not. I will go and tell James; he will be very happy at the news."

He put his arm round Loszina's shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze, and then turned and walked towards the glade in which James Jones lived.

* * *

"He's not answering; the phone's turned off."

Mrs Jones pressed the button to end the call and turned to her husband.

"Where is he? He was kidnapped, now he's run away. Something tells me the two are very much connected. I'm wondering if he actually ran away or if he's been taken again."

"This was of Freddy's doing," Mr Jones replied softly, motioning to the wide-open window and the string of sheets dangling from it, swaying hypnotically in a soft breeze. "I doubt the kidnappers opened his window from the inside, knew where the key was when Freddy had hidden it and took clothes and underwear and food for him as well. No, he's either run off or he's gone and tried to track them down himself, which is just about the silliest thing he's ever done, even if he does track them down. I can't believe all this. Just a few days ago we had a normal family, and now our son's missing and the whole of Ohio's looking for him. Dear goodness, what next?"

Mrs Jones sighed gustily, and she sat down heavily on Fred's mattress. Everything she did seemed to take double the effort right now.

"I don't know who to turn to. He said he'd be back soon, but I can't sit here idly and wait!"

"I know, I know," Mr Jones murmured, sitting down as well and putting his arm round his wife. "We will find him. We will."

* * *

Three teenagers and a dog sat round a TV, watching the news channel for any news. They guessed Mr and Mrs Jones would call them if there was an update, but they couldn't help hoping. Daphne was holding an old school text book of Fred's that they had doodled in together one day in school and was smoothing her thumb over the faded and dog-eared cover as she watched the screen.

"In other news, the search continues for the missing seventeen-year-old boy, Fred Jones, who was last seen at his home in north Coolsville. If any member of the public has any news on Fred's whereabouts, they need to come forward immediately. The police hotline is on the screen now."

Daphne laid her head back against the arm of the sofa and pressed the text book against her chest, closing her eyes for a second. The rest of the gang-minus-one looked round to her as the news changed and went onto sport, although Velma noted that the Ohio football team had won their latest game and Fred would want to know about that once he was back.

"Where is he? He said he'd be back. Trust him not to say any more. If I didn't love him so much I'd hate him… Scooby, come here."

Not quite sure what was about to happen, Scooby walked over. Daphne ripped a corner off the exercise book and scribbled a note on it, then slid it into Scooby's mouth.

"Take that to Fred's corner for me, I'm too tired to stand up." Daphne hadn't slept properly since Fred's first disappearance.

Scooby walked over to the little corner of the room, which was the gang's room, with their designated corners and such, and dropped it on Fred's navy blue bean bag, which still had the indent from when Fred had sat on it last. The note opened as he dropped it, and he scanned it over: "FRED YOU IDIOT. GET BACK HERE. I NEED YOU BACK. DAPH (X)."

"Raphne," he murmured sadly, before walking over and lying down next to her as she fell asleep lying on the floor.

* * *

Fred closed his eyes as a barrage of mana whipped across him.


	10. Chapter 10

"So. You got my message, anyway. My dream message. Dreams can be carried by mana, and I persuaded Myrrh and Loszina to give you the dream. I hope you don't mind, but we needed you and we still do and it seemed a good way to go about things. I picked that particular scene myself. I thought you'd like it."

Fred, who was sat opposite his uncle's spirit-form on a tree trunk, smiled briefly.

"Yeah. It was a good choice."

James Jones smiled as well, his glowing eyes seeming to emit even more light.

"And my voice. When I said "I will talk to you tomorrow night", I meant I would "talk" to you through Loszina taking you. It was to try and reassure you, but I don't think it worked. I'm sorry, Freddy. I should have kept it simple with the dream, but I thought it would help."

"I don't mind."

"I'm no druid, Freddy, but I can sense you're not quite telling me the whole truth when you say that."

Fred shrugged.

"Well, at the time it was a bit creepy. And nobody believed me and I tortured my mom when I went missing because we'd just argued over it. So yeah, I do mind. But I don't blame you for that."

"Thank you, my boy."

Myrrh intervened quietly.

"Fred came here to be told about what it was like to be a Mana-Bringer, James. I accept that you want to catch up with him and make any apologies necessary, but now that's over- we need to get Fred back to civilisation as soon as is possible and chats are taking up too much time."

James nodded, standing up.

"Your point is a good one, Myrrh. Freddy- what would you like to know?"

"What you actually do when you're a Mana-Bringer."

"You regulate the flow and production of mana. As well as mana existing on live creatures and plants, it is produced by them. However, some produce more and some produce less. The aim of the Mana-Bringer is to regulate the supply and ensure that all are producing the same amount. The reason the mana is waning is because some organisms are making more and some less, and that spurs all organisms to produce less. It's a simple thing to do- all you need to do is commune with the mana and tell it what to do, since mana is not intelligent. It has no brain or anything of its own, and so you have to tell it what to do. It is essential that there is a Mana-Bringer to regulate the mana for the existence of shamans and druids, e.g. clans like the Arruichi, and so since my death the clan has been seeing a steady decrease in mana. You are needed, and you have the gift. I need you to use it."

Fred's eyes were on the other side of the clearing as he drank in the words his uncle had spoken. Myrrh broke the silence.

"We won't force you to be our Mana-Bringer, Fred. But we need a person to do the job for us. When you employ mana, you cannot regulate it, and we all employ it in the camp. So we beg you, for our existence, to go ahead with all this."

Fred slowly turned to face him. Loszina, who stood next to Myrrh, drew her breath in sharply.

"What?" Myrrh asked, turning to face her.

Loszina pointed behind Fred, and they turned. Fred yelped with shock.

A very familiar Great Dane stood behind him.

* * *

"SCOOBY DOO, GET BACK HERE!"

Shaggy lunged for Scooby's collar as the dog rushed towards a road, seeming to follow instinct more than logic. Both Velma and Daphne quickly shut their eyes, not wanting to see, but when they opened them again Scooby was on the other side of the road and very much not flattened. Velma sighed.

"How does he do that?" she asked softly as the Great Dane vanished from sight. Daphne smiled, but then gasped.

"Daph, what is it?"

"I think… I think he's gone to find Freddy."

The two other teens stared at her.

"What?" Velma asked, incredulous.

"I told him to put a note on Freddy's bean bag in his corner. It was something like "Freddy, you idiot, get back here", just rubbish. I was half-asleep. I guess Scooby thinks I'm going to do something stupid if Freddy's not found soon, so he's run off to find him… oh goodness, what if the people who took Freddy are violent? What if they hurt both of them? Oh goodness, guys, I am so stupid… this is all my fault… I've been saying for ages to Scooby that I should go and find Freddy, but I didn't think Scoob would take it on himself… Someone pinch me, please, this isn't happening… Why do I have to screw everything up?"

Immediately, Shaggy and Velma grabbed her arms and guided her into the malt shop to buy a malted milkshake each. It was bad enough to have Scooby missing, although they knew he would come back, deep down. It was worse to have Daphne near meltdown. Silently, Velma cursed the world as she sipped her milkshake. Shaggy cursed Fred, Scooby, the people who were holding Fred, and then the world.

* * *

"Scooby?"

"Reddy!"

The Dane bounded onto Fred, panting with joy, and started lathering his face in licks, wiggling with puppy-style joy.

"Hey, hey, Scooby, get off!" Fred gasped, pushing the eager tongue away and wiping his face. Slightly sheepishly, Scooby stood up and moved back.

"What's he doing here?" Loszina asked, pointing to Scooby. Her eyes glared at Fred as she pointed, asking for a reason, and Fred turned to Scooby, the same question in his head but a good guess already thought of.

"Did you come to find me, boy?"

Scooby nodded, giving his friend one last lick.

"Ruh-huh!"

Fred smiled, stroking Scooby's back, and then turned back to Loszina.

"I guess he just came to find me."

"How did he track you?" Myrrh asked suddenly, turning and looking round the glade as though he suspected there was a microphone hidden in the rampant undergrowth. Which, Fred reasoned to himself, he might well be thinking. He was wrong, though. There was a much more logical reason why Scooby had managed to find him.

Fred drew a small brown nugget from his pocket, smiling, and immediately Scooby started nuzzling his hand, trying to get the nugget. Myrrh and Loszina stared at it, confused.

"What is that?"

James was smiling, a beam of remembrance on his ethereal face. Fred smiled.

"I'd forgotten I had it. It's a Scooby Snack."

He reached down and fed it to the eagerly-awaiting Dane, smiling as the rough, warm tongue sloshed over the palm of his hand.

"There you go, boy. A reward for finding me."

Myrrh was smiling by now, his mood turned at seeing the two friends together, but Loszina was feeling less cheerful.

"We will be discovered! Others will come looking for the dog and they will find us all. We cannot be discovered, but we cannot simply let the boy go either, we need him and his Mana-Bringer skills… Can you tell the dog to go back to his owners and not tell them where you are?"

Fred nodded, a little sad that his friends wouldn't know still where he was but pepped up by the appearance of the familiar dog, and put a serious face on, turning back to Scooby.

"Scoob, I need you to go back and tell the guys that you didn't find me, and stick to that. OK? I need to stay here for a little while, without intervention from the others. I don't like it either, but it needs to happen."

"Ri ran't."

"Why can't you?"

"Raphne's roing razy."

"Daph won't go crazy, Scoob. I just need a few more days and I can come back. I know the guys are probably worried and missing me and stuff, but I only need a little while. I want to get back home as much as the others want me to, boy, but I don't have a choice. Promise me you won't bring them here?"

Scooby shook his head firmly.

"Ru rave ro rome rack."

"Scoob… I don't know what to do if you insist I have to come back, because right now I can't. I will soon. Just a couple of days, that's all I need. I will come back, and as soon as I can. I promise."

"Ru rave ro. Ror Raphne."

Fred turned away for a second, quietly wiping a small tear away from his eye. When he turned back his face was softer, wishful, somehow younger, more like the little boy Scooby had once played fetch with in the park after school all those years ago than in many months.

"Please, Scooby. Please."

Scooby shook his head again, whining softly.

"Then we have no choice," Loszina said abruptly, reaching down and stuffing something to the back of Scooby's throat. Fred jumped; he hadn't heard or seen her approach. "He won't wake up until he's restrained."

"No! Don't take him away from the guys as well! Just take him back to them," Fred begged frantically as Scooby relaxed into unconsciousness, just as Fred had done when Loszina had given him the same treatment. Loszina shook her head firmly.

"And be discovered? I can't believe how much trouble you've brought on us, Fred Jones."

Fred snapped.

"Alright then! If I'm so much trouble, why don't I just leave?" he snarled, standing up to his full height, a good inch taller than Loszina, and picking Scooby up with both arms. Loszina stepped away, uncertain suddenly; had she just lost the clan their Mana-Bringer?

Fred walked towards the entrance and exit for the clearing, and the mile walk back to home and safety. Myrrh tried to stop him with spells, giving him guilty thoughts, even simply making his feet heavier, but they bounced off the iron wall of resoluteness and certainty that Fred was feeling. Nothing could stop him now.

His figure disappeared into the distance, heading home.

A/N: Ooh… I didn't intend for it to go that way, but when you stray from the beaten track you get a good plot… ;P Please read and review, as always, and thanks to Angel1008 for your support! Jazzola :)


	11. Chapter 11

The reunion was a tearful one.

Daphne collapsed into Fred's arms as soon as she saw him, sobbing her heart out and only able to gasp "Freddy… you… idiot… where were you… Scooby… found you…" before becoming incomprehensible. Fred scooped her up and carried her through to the lounge before collapsing onto the sofa with her on top of him. Both were exhausted, and both fell asleep before too long, Daphne's hand on Fred's neck and Fred's fingers wound round a lock of her hair, their bodies quietly entwined. They looked so peaceful that the gang left them.

Scooby filled in the blanks as to where Fred and he had been, and after the two "Sleeping Beauties" (as Shaggy jokingly called them) woke up, Fred filled in more of the blanks, finally telling his friends and family who he had been with, why they had taken him and where they had taken him to. The police were given a slightly edited version of events- as far as they were concerned, Fred had never seen the faces of the people who took him, since they wore balaclavas, and they had taken him to a house near the woodland. Fred had escaped into the woodland a second time, this time knocking one of the kidnappers out with his elbow to get away (there was a bruise there from Myrrh grabbing his arm one time), and Scooby had found him because they walked Scooby in the woodland and he had gone there for some reason. Maybe it was a case of animal ESP, although that was up to the officers to decide and it might just have been a happy coincidence. They were happy with the version of events, and didn't ask any more questions. They left to file a report.

After they left, the group were sat round Scooby in the lounge, Fred idly stroking Scooby's back and Daphne leaning against him, reaching up every so often to stroke the hair at the back of his neck, as though she was making sure he really was real and he really was there.

"Freddy," Mr Jones said, breaking the silence. Everyone swerved round to look at him.

"Yeah, Dad?" Fred asked quietly, focusing on his father. Mr Jones braced himself inside and opened his mouth to speak.

"Where is James now?"

"He's up in that woodland, Dad. The woodland I told the police Scooby found me in. In a little glade. He's- he's not really a ghost, Dad. As stupid as it may sound, he's a spirit of the wood now, and we can't go there anyway. They won't let you guys in, and after what I said to them I doubt they'll let me back in either, no matter about Uncle James."

"I have to see him," Mr Jones said, standing up. "I have to. Freddy, I really need to."

"Why?"

"_Why?_"

Mr Jones ran his hand through his hair anxiously, his voice exasperated and desperate.

"Freddy, he's my brother and he's at the heart of all these disappearances. There may be more to this than you know. I want to find out if there is."

"Dad, no. They won't let you, they'll hide the clan from you. You can't get there if the clan's hidden, and they'll just hide it. They don't want people who have things like cell phones and stuff going there; they say it upsets the mana or something like that. I don't know and I don't care. I'm not going back."

Fred turned away, his breathing heavy after his outburst. Daphne stroked his hair to calm him down, and he gave her a little smile.

"Well then," Mr Jones said, standing up. "I'll have to persuade you, won't I?"

Fred looked back up at him, puzzlement on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll have to keep you thinking about this. I won't be disobeyed, but this goes beyond that. I need to see James and you maybe don't want to but it would tie up some loose ends for both of us. Be fair, son. He is my brother."

Fred stood up, pulling himself to his full height, which was a good three inches taller than his father. Mr Jones stood back a little, but wasn't intimidated. However much Fred tried, he could never intimidate his own family- not that he normally had reason to do so.

"They won't let you see him and they certainly won't welcome me back, after what I did. It's a dead end, Dad. I can't help that."

"Freddy?" Velma asked quietly from the corner. Fred turned, frowning slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Why did they take you again?"

Fred still looked puzzled, his mouth slightly open and his head cocked to one side.

"They wanted me to be their Mana-Bringer. Where're you going with this, Velms? And if you're siding with Dad, don't bother."

Velma smiled.

"Freddy, there's more to this than you can see, or you're just refusing to see it. Without you and your capabilities, which your uncle handed down to you when he died, they will go out of existence. It seems to me that they are fascinating people, and they lead lives that are fulfilling and that they enjoy. They need your help, or they won't be here soon. This maybe isn't fully about you and your uncle, or even you and them kidnapping you. It seems to me that they did it for the right reasons and then messed it up afterward. This Loszina- her existence is under threat if you don't go back, and she was harsh because she doesn't know you yet and you're her only hope. She's desperate. From the sounds of it, they all are. Why don't you give them one last chance? Go there with your dad and sort this out. If you don't come back, we'll come find you guys, but I doubt that'll happen. You're their last chance, Freddy. You should give them that last chance."

Velma sat back a little, finally falling silent. She could tell from the look in Fred's darkened blue eyes that she had struck a chord with him.

Without another word, Daphne stood up and led him away, out of the room and into the kitchen, her body language firmly telling the others that they were going to talk alone.

* * *

"Velms is right. You should go back. You and your dad. It would help things."

Fred slid his finger down the window, collecting condensation on his fingertip and rubbing it off on his thumb. Daphne reached out and took his hand in both of hers, smoothing her fingers over his skin as she carried on talking.

"Your dad has the chance to meet his brother again after losing him nine years ago. That is a chance anybody would love. It's like someone who has died being resurrected. Come on, Freddy. See it from his point of view. If Mitchell died and you found out that he'd come back as a spirit, wouldn't you want to meet him?"

Fred didn't answer.

"Please, Freddy. You need to go. Please?"

Again, Fred remained silent, his fingers stiff and unresponsive under Daphne's. She pulled his hand towards her and rested his fingers on her heart, leaning her head down to kiss his hand. He smiled and reached up with one finger to stroke her cheek. The bond between the two shone like an aura around them.

"I'll go. For you and for Dad. I'll go."

Daphne's smile could have outshone the sun. Fred smiled back, but his was more a fond smile and there was a hint of worry still around the edges. Daphne stood up and pulled him into a hug, kissing his neck, her hands on his back and arms and his on her neck and the back of her head.

"You are amazing," Daphne murmured to him, holding him tighter than ever before. Her heart blazed with adoration for him, and his wasn't any different. He shook his head gently, squeezing her back.

"I'm not. But thanks."

"Don't be so modest," Daphne scolded gently, kissing him again on the cheek and smiling as he sighed. She had said the same thing many times to him- normally it wasn't a huge thing with him, but when he was with her he was more modest and it showed.

"Come on. Do you want to tell your dad, or shall I?"

* * *

A/N: There we go people, marshmallow Fraphne fluff just for those who asked for it. The next part'll be up soon! Jazzola :)


	12. Chapter 12

"It's up here."

Fred pointed up towards the woodland with one hand and got a firmer grip on his rucksack with the other. The strap had broken and was trailing along the ground as he walked.

"How much further?" wheezed Mr Jones as he stood with his hands on his knees and panted for a minute. Fred gave him an amused look and he stood up straight.

"I'm fine, for your information, Frederick Jones."

Fred turned away with the same smile on his face and carried on walking, waiting for a few seconds at a bench for his exhausted father to catch him up. Mr Jones had never been as fit as his son and it showed in his energy levels.

"Loszina hid my cell behind here."

Fred reached down and started running his fingers along the ground behind the bench, spreading his hand out to cover as much ground as possible. They suddenly impacted with something, and Fred's phone appeared beneath his fingers as though it had been conjured from thin air. Which, in a sense, it had.

"Found it!"

Fred pressed the on button to call home and tell his mother where he was and that he had his phone back. The phone displayed low battery for a second and then died on him.

"Oh brother…"

Fred groaned inwardly as he tried again and got the same result. Mr Jones looked as well, his face at first puzzled and then disappointed.

"OK. Well, I have to call or Mom'll freak out, so here goes…"

Fred held the phone out with one hand and closed his eyes. Mr Jones, sensing that Fred was doing something important or difficult and wouldn't appreciate being interrupted, simply watched.

A blue glow began to appear around Fred's hand and the phone clutched in it, and Fred squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, clenching his other hand as the glow got stronger and stronger and his arm began to shake as a gale-force wind whipped him. Fred crouched down, still holding the phone out in his hand, and bent his head, hiding his face from view and from the cruel, harsh tempest now throwing the trees around him into jerking, seizure-like states. Mr Jones crouched as well, to protect himself from whatever his son was doing. He had no idea what this was all about, and could feel himself getting panicked- for himself, for what was happening and also for the safety of his child; did Fred really know what he was doing with this? He had said he was only training… could he be about to hurt himself?

Fred yelped with pain as a ripped-off twig struck him on the back, and his father leapt out, intending to break the trance and stop whatever was happening.

The wind stopped.

Fred stood up cautiously, rubbing his back where the twig had struck him. Mr Jones rushed over and looked down at the phone as it suddenly came to life in Fred's palm. For some reason, the battery was suddenly full.

"What was that?"

"I charged my phone," Fred said simply, flipping the phone up and beginning to dial his home number.

Neither of them noticed someone or something slip past them in the undergrowth.

The phone call didn't last long, and Fred quickly flipped the phone down and ended the call. He stuffed it in his rucksack and picked the bag up, pulling a thorn from the fabric and nodding to his father to indicate he was done.

"OK. Let's carry on."

"Remind me to take a look at your back when we get home," Mr Jones replied, and Fred shook his head quickly.

"It's fine."

"Good going, Fred."

The two men looked at each other, confused.

The Fred recognised the voice and swerved round, fright beginning to take him over as he guessed who it was.

"I agree with her. That was much better than what you achieved in training. Maybe it was your mood bringing you down before."

"Myrrh? Loszina?"

"Hello again," a midnight-black puma, slinking out of the bushes, replied quietly.

"A talking panther?" Mr Jones asked wearily. "Anything else you want to tell me about, son?"

"She's a druidess, Dad, so she can shape-shift," Fred replied quietly, turning back to the puma. "Where's Myrrh?"

"Here," said a large lion as it walked out from behind the puma, the smile on his feline face almost the same as the cheeky grin on the human face and the mane, albeit reddish-brown, as curly and thick as the boy's normal hair. Mr Jones gave a little whimper at the lion's size, but Fred simply walked over to the bench and sat down on it, his eyes on his phone. The puma gave it a look of distaste and addressed him.

"Could you turn that thing off please, Fred, and listen to what we have to say."

Fred sulkily did as he was asked, reluctant to cut off his contact with his family and friends back at home.

"Now," the lion said, the smile gone. "This is what we propose, Mana-Bringer. Tell us if you agree."

* * *

"He said he's got his cell back and he and his dad are going to go find this clearing where his uncle is," Mrs Jones said calmly to the three teens and dog in the lounge of her house, all of whom were talking amongst themselves quietly and trying to pass the time until Fred returned. Daphne was browsing H&M Online on her phone, Velma had a book called "Advanced Genetic Studies for the Young Scientist" and Shaggy and Scooby were sharing a bag of crisps. Daphne smiled up at the woman and quickly looked back at her phone.

"He will call you again, right?"

"As soon as they're heading back."

Daphne nodded and read a word or two over Velma's shoulder.

"Advanced genetic studies have shown that the sequence of nucleotides in a gene is translated by cells to produce a chain of amino acids…"

The book had lost her already. Feeling her brain numb over, she quickly turned back to her phone and the purple floral dress she was looking at. Her mind drifted back to dragging Fred around H&M a few weeks ago and looking at this same dress in there. She leaned back and went into a daydream, remembering that day.

* * *

"So you agreed?"

James Jones was sat opposite his nephew and his brother, who were sat together on the same log. Fred nodded wordlessly.

"But that's brilliant, Freddy! Thank you, my boy! Really, that's brilliant. And you don't have to worry, Sam. I'll keep an eye on him and if anything happens I can work his cell phone to call you. He'll be completely safe. We just need to complete his training."

"I guess, if it helps you guys," Sam replied, putting his arm round Fred. He could feel his son shivering slightly as the temperature fell. He also got the impression that it might not all be just the cold.

"You up for it, son?"

Fred nodded.

"Well, I have to be, don't I? I can't back out now, there isn't anybody else who could take over the job and this is the only way I can see my uncle."

Sam swore he had never felt prouder of his son as they walked back, Fred with his phone against his ear and calling his mother and his broken rucksack still trailing on the ground.

* * *

The second they were back home, Fred was enveloped in a hug from Daphne and Mr Jones was yanked into the kitchen by his wife to discuss what had happened and what he had agreed to.

"It was his choice," was the first thing he told her. "He's seventeen now and you have to respect his choice."

She understood why he'd chosen it.

It didn't mean she liked what he'd chosen.


	13. Chapter 13

"Are you absolutely sure this is what you're going to do?"

Fred nodded, silent. Every waking moment and quite a lot of time asleep had been spent dwelling on the implications of his decision. He would have to spend months on his training, living with the Arruichi clan, before he could return to civilisation, although he would be able to have contact with his friends and family while he was training.

"OK."

Mr Jones picked up his car keys and put one hand on his son's shoulder.

"You'd better go say goodbye to Daphne."

His eyes suddenly and embarrassingly hazed by tears, Fred nodded again and headed out of the door, towards Daphne's house.

She was waiting on the drive, having already walked to Fred's place.

"So. You're going?"

"Yeah. My decision's made. Don't try and talk me out of it, please, Daph. It's not what I want either."

"You don't have to. But it's your choice and I respect that. I love you and I want you to call me and tell me that you love me at least twice a day, Freddy Jones."

Fred smiled and held her close, his fingers stroking her hair and tears sliding down both of their cheeks. Daphne squeezed him as he held her and kissed his cheek tenderly, the bond between them electric, loving, warm.

"I'm gonna miss you so, so much," Fred murmured, Daphne's body pressed against his and her hand on the nape of his neck, caressing his skin gently and smoothly.

"Remember your promise."

"What promise?"

"I'll make it for you," Daphne teased gently, wiping a tear from his cheek and pulling a tissue from her bag to dry his eyes. "I, Daphne Blake, solemnly promise that Frederick Jones will call me at least twice a day during his training and he will tell me that he loves me each and every time, without fail. If he breaks his promise, when he comes back he will have to buy me every outfit I like in fifteen different fashion shops. Sounds OK to me, Freddy."

He laughed, pressing his lips against her forehead and still holding her close.

"You'll bankrupt me one day, Daphne."

"I look forward to it," Daphne whispered back, grinning at him. Mr Jones called from the house and made them both jump.

"You coming, Freddy?"

"Yeah, OK," Fred called back, kissing Daphne full on the lips and giving her a damp but loving smile and a whispered "Goodbye, I love you," before walking over to the car and getting in the passenger seat, his bag clutched in his arms and a daunted look on his pale face. Daphne waved as the car drew out and blew kisses at him in the mirror, smiling even though her heart felt like it was shattering in slow motion and tears were flooding her face and her saturated cheeks.

The long, long wait would start now.

_Five months_, Daphne thought as she walked home. _Five months until you see Freddy Jones again. It's gonna feel like such a long time…_

Daphne's phone bleeped and she looked down at it, smiling as she saw who it was from.

"that promise you made? it's on. i promise to keep it. Freddy ps: I love you"

Daphne sniffled a little reading it, but kept her composure as she opened her gate and walked towards the house.

"One day," she murmured to herself. "One day."

* * *

"Hey, Daph. It's me."

"Hello again. How's it going?"

"OK. I fell in a puddle this morning and my hair's covered in mud. I never thought I'd miss shampoo this much."

"Oh, Freddy… *both start laughing* I'd die if I couldn't have shampoo for five months."

"Glamour ditz. Addicted to beauty."

"I'd throw something at you if you weren't ten miles away. I miss those sleepovers when I threw pillows at you for your remarks… No, I just miss you."

"Only one more month now, Daph."

"I know… *sighs* It's gone quicker than I thought. Velms said you texted her this morning saying something about mana and the reproduction of it, something like that, and she didn't understand. Explain it to me so I can explain to her?"

"She asked about mana reproduction, and tell her that I got step one and two mixed up. She'll figure it out."

"OK. I'll text her as soon as we ring off."

*silence for a minute*

"You are OK, aren't you? You said you hurt your arm training."

"Just a bruise. It's fine."

"You don't want me to leave some medical stuff at that meeting point, do you?"

"No, it honestly is just a bruise."

"If you say so. You don't have to be a macho man all the time, Freddy."

"Macho man? I was sobbing when I came here, let me remind you. Although I don't like bringing that up. Forget I said it."

"See? Trying to be macho. I have proof that you were crying. My hankie. It's still in my bag, I forgot to wash it, so it'll still have your tears in it, sort of. Anyway, that doesn't matter. What kind of things are you learning now?"

"Mana reproduction, how to channel it into humans, animals and reptiles, and how to avoid getting hurt in the process. I'm good at that part."

"*sniggers* Yeah, like you just get out of the way as soon as possible and start cowering in the corner with your hands over your head."

"*sighs* Are you saying you'd do anything else? You'd stand in the way and get hurt?"

"*grins* OK, your round. *silence again* I miss you."

"You said."

"I mean real, _real _missing you. Ache-in-the-heart miss you."

*small pause*

"Freddy? You there?"

"Yeah. Just… I do as well. So bad. I'm sorry I have to do this."

"Don't be silly. How many girls in Ohio can say they have a Mana-Bringer for a boyfriend? Someone who can charge their phone in their hand?"

"Once I'm fully trained, I won't be able to do that. I'll have to use the charger again. Honestly, what's the point of being a Mana-Bringer if you can't do stuff like that? It's not fair."

"*laughs* Ah well. What about bringing people back to life?"

"Apparently that comes with it as well. Bringing people back if they've had heart attacks or things like that."

"*admiring silence* Wow. If I develop heart problems you're going to be a handy person to have around."

"I'd only save you if you were being nice to me that day."

"FREDDY!"

"*sniggers* Only joking. You hope…"

"That's it. I'm going to ring off and you're going to break your promise because you haven't yet told me you love me and you're going to have to buy me those outfits."

"Don't! I'm bankrupt!"

"*laughs* You never told me that before."

"Yeah, well, it never came up."

"OK. I'll have mercy this once."

"Thank you, _sweetheart_."

"*laughs* You still haven't told me you love me."

"OK. I love you, Daphne Blake. Is that enough?"

"Absolutely. Although I would like to hear it again."

"I love you, Daph."

"*joking around* Oh, why does my heart melt when I hear those words?"

"*grinning* You're sitting too close to the radiator?"

"Honestly. What would I do without you, Freddy?"

"Probably melt. Have you moved away from the radiator yet?"

"*laughs* Seriously. I get heartache when I hear you say that. I love you too, Freddy. So much."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Thank whoever made you so wonderful that I fell in love with you. See you in a month's time, darling."

"Darling… aw. Thanks. And yeah, see you."

"Goodbye. *presses phone close to ear* I love you."

"I love you too. Bye."

*beep beep, beep beep, beep beep…*

* * *

A/N: Sorry this one's been so long, I've been on holiday (sort of) with family and it's been hard to write… I've been writing on my iPod though so I'm not out of practice. Thank goodness for the Notes function… :P Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, only one or two more chapters though! Jazzola


	14. Chapter 14

Daphne turned over in bed and stretched, looking at her alarm clock. Her bleary eyes took in the date and time and she suddenly sat bolt upright, staring at it, a smile slowly spreading over her face and her eyes gleaming with girlish delight.

Today was the day that Fred returned. Today.

She leapt out, forgetting that she was only wearing a skimpy nightie and pulling it down as quickly as possible. Fred had laughed when she'd shown it to him, saying it was too small, but secretly she reckoned he'd been sneaking glances at her in it when she had changed at the sleepover they'd been on at the time. She smiled to herself as she got dressed. Whenever she was having a crisis, he was never far away to tell her that she was beautiful. Even when a haircut had gone disastrously wrong, he'd been on hand to soothe her and help her out with trying different styles until she found one that made her look good. Even though he'd just been sitting there watching her in the mirror and holding the hair slides and clips and such, his help had been invaluable.

Mrs Blake poked her head round the door as Daphne grabbed a muesli bar and headed out of the door, grabbing her bag on the way and barely even pausing to look in the hall mirror.

"And where are you going? Not like you to be too busy to do your make-up…"

"Freddy reckons I look prettier without."

"Oh, he's coming back now, is he? I see. Mind your manners at the Jones's, Daphne, and I'll come and pick you up, I'm going that way to the mall."

"Oh, I can walk back. I'll be fine."

"No, Daphne, it's a Saturday and there are all sorts of people out today. I'm not happy with you walking there and back on your own."

"Then how about I get Freddy to walk me back?"

She relented, smiling at her daughter. She knew the plot was there so that Daphne could spend more time with Fred, and although she had no qualms with her daughter's relationship with him she didn't want Daphne thinking that it was alright to weasel out of everything, especially if it was for her safety.

"Very well. Mind that he wipes his shoes before he comes in, I only just had the carpets cleaned."

"He wasn't brought up in a barn, Mom. Mrs Jones insists I do the same thing when I go to theirs."

Mrs Blake pursed her lips, but didn't pursue her point.

"Very well then, Daphne. I'll see you later."

Daphne blew her mother a kiss and headed out of the door, her hand pushing the door almost shut on the way out. Mrs Blake rolled her eyes at her daughter's retreating back and walked through to the kitchen to get some breakfast of her own.

* * *

"Dad, are you OK?" Fred asked as his father sat down on the bench that had become so familiar in the last five months or so. Mr Jones nodded, panting. The climb was steeper than he remembered…

"Come on, Dad, we gotta get back," Fred said gently, starting to walk down on his own. Mr Jones could tell that he was desperate to get back home and so combated his fatigue and caught up with the teenager, still a little disbelieving that after all this time he was back with his son. Fred turned slightly to give his father a smile before going down a particularly steep bank for a shortcut. Mr Jones went by the road and laughed as Fred lost his footing and tumbled for a few yards before catching himself on a rock and clinging to it like a drowning spider.

"You want a hand, son?"

Fred slipped down, spared Mr Jones a smile and carried on, desperate to get home.

The car was a welcome sight to him after the months of only seeing trees and members of the Arruichi clan; it reminded him of the Mystery Machine safely tucked away in the garage at home, awaiting repairs as usual.

The drive home had never seemed longer, and normally Fred would have been texting, or doodling on the pad in the footwell, or daydreaming. Now he was looking out of the window, drinking in the sights of the modern world, the world he had been born into and been exiled from for what had felt like an eternity. The thought of having luxuries like shampoo and a warm shower every day and a clean, soft bed was so good, and the prospect of seeing his friends- mainly Daphne- was almost too much. Fred had to resist reaching his foot over and pressing the accelerator himself, smiling as he remembered Scooby doing that several times before. A group of boys from the next block waved, and Fred smiled back at them, looking away as one of them mouthed "Where've you been?" and pretending not to see. His cover story was that he had been visiting a sick relative in Connecticut, since he did have family there, but he wasn't a very good liar when he was talking to friends and he would rather not have to do it unless it was absolutely necessary. Mr Jones quickly moved on.

"Here we are," he said quietly as he drew up outside the house that Fred was so familiar with- the house he'd grown up in, fought with his parents in, invited his friends to, held gang meetings in, even just lounged around watching a game and eating snacks in. The sight of the violas in the porch and the sign saying "NEVER MIND THE DOG, BEWARE OF THE OWNER" hung crookedly in the window (they had bought it when they had had a Labrador called Smokey when Fred was still young) brought back a flood of memories.

And then the door swung open and Mrs Jones rushed out to hug him and take his bag and hug him again and guide him into the kitchen for some food and then upstairs to unpack, which only took a minute.

Daphne arrived just as Fred went upstairs to wash his hair, very much anticipating the feel of shampoo on it again. Mr Jones had gone earlier than he thought he would, and normally Daphne would have been miffed that he had changed his plans without telling her, but she was too happy to see Fred to care.

"FREDDY!" she yelped, throwing herself at him, and he turned and pulled her into the longest hug they'd ever had, kissing her neck and her cheek and eventually her lips and smiling to himself as his parents made excuses to go into the lounge and left them in peace.

"You're filthy," Daphne grinned, rubbing his hair and grimacing as she felt the mud and grime on her fingers.

"That's what living with people who have never heard of shampoo does to you," Fred laughed, in a buoyant mood at his return home. Daphne slipped her hand down his arm and tucked it into his hand, pulling him after her and up the stairs.

"Come on, there's no way you'll get all that stuff out of your hair by yourself."

Fred smiled and allowed her to drag him into the bathroom and lean his head back in the basin, washing and shampooing and conditioning away five months' worth of grot and mud.

Velma, Shaggy and Scooby arrived at the last stage of the conditioning and Fred met them wrapped in a towel and with his sopping wet hair sticking up in spikes. Shaggy flattened the ones on the top of his head with a grin and Daphne batted him away, laughing.

"So. Mana-Bringer person. What's it like?" Velma asked as they all crashed on the sofa and the armchairs around it and Scooby on the old pouffe that Smokey had had once upon a time and the Great Dane had requisitioned.

Fred smiled and leaned back, his hair dripping on the sofa and his fingers tapping out a little beat on the armrest as he thought about what to say.

"It's… the most incredible feeling when you're doing it. Like the world is flowing through your fingers and back out again as some sort of liquid. It's crazy and it makes sense at the same time. It's hard to explain, really… Imagine you were really powerful and there was someone standing in front of you who you had complete control of, someone whom you only had to say the word and they would die. They were begging you for mercy, telling you some sob story that you know isn't true. You know they should die for what they did, but you decide to let them live. The feeling when you say "Let them live"- it's like that, only a million times more powerful and deeper. I know it's not the best analogy, but that's the only way I can explain it."

"And something about restarting hearts, I heard from Daph," Velma said, looking into Fred's eyes. She knew she was looking at Fred, the gang's Freddy, whom they had all known since he was about three years old and who had led them into trouble and laughed with them and spent time with them and messed around with them and eventually fallen in love with one of them, but something had changed in his eyes. Maybe it was being away from home so long and it would disappear, but something seemed to run deeper than that and it showed just behind his blue irises.

However, even as she watched, it left and it was replaced by something new; the gleam of mischief she knew.

"Yeah, I can bring people back to life. I can't wait to try that one out! Maybe one of you could run under a bus for me so I can test it…"

The gang laughed and Daphne whacked his arm with a cushion. He laughed.

"Didn't hurt!" he grinned childishly, and Velma carried on laughing as Daphne leaned over, apologised to Scooby, pulled the pouffe out from under him and threatened to hit Fred with that instead. Scooby wrestled the pouffe back and settled down on it, sighing at the familiar smell of two dogs: himself and Smokey, whom he had known for a short while. He had always been familiar with that scent, and after so much tumult and change within the gang it was something nice, something normal, to lean on.

"OK, OK! Sorry! Sorry!" Fred laughed, and the gang settled down again as Mrs Jones walked through with a tray of freshly-baked cookies and some coffee.

"Seriously," Shaggy said, munching on a cookie. "Like, how does it work?"

Fred swallowed his cookie and brushed a crumb away from his mouth as he started speaking.

"I concentrate the mana in my hands so that it's really powerful, and then I channel it into the body of the person who's hurt. It heals some of their injuries and keeps them alive for a short while, at least until I can get medical help for them. It's simple really, just hard to pull off without turning the area around me into a hazard zone. The air responds to the mana and creates a whirlwind. I can stop it if I concentrate hard enough, but it still gets pretty breezy and if I was at the top of a cliff or something it could get really dangerous."

Shaggy looked admiring, Scooby looked awed, Velma looked thoughtful and Daphne simply closed her eyes and imagined the scene; her Freddy standing tall and strong and resurrecting some random person from the dead. She'd never been more proud of him in her life.

"You're going to be a medical phenomenon if anyone finds out, Freddy," Velma said after a while. Fred smiled.

"I'm not planning on telling them."

"You could save loads of lives, man," Shaggy said softly. Fred shook his head.

"It only works if I saw the accident, if I do it immediately afterwards, and the person isn't so badly injured there's no way they'll survive even if they do have a few extra minutes. There are so many clauses… at least I've got it. Who knows, it might come in handy on one of these mysteries."

After a few minutes, a little more banter and some more questions on the subject of what it was like being a Mana-Bringer and what could they do, the gang had to leave for a number of reasons, mostly family-related; Velma was going to see her grandma on the other side of Ohio, Shaggy and Scooby had to look after Sugey while their parents went for a day out with friends (their reward was some takeout pizza when their parents got back). Daphne's reason was the only one that wasn't really about her relations; she just wanted some time alone with Fred.

The group filed away, and Fred said a brief goodbye to his parents and walked with Daphne back to her house.

Daphne could see the tears in his eyes as they walked, and knew that there was something else, something big, that he hadn't yet told her about and that she should know.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry this took such a long time, but it's a bit long and I was working on my Warcraft story as well… Anyway, it's up now. As always, read and review, and I hope you enjoyed! Jazzola :)


	15. Chapter 15

"So."

Daphne plumped herself down on her bed next to Fred, who was sat with his head bowed and his face in shadow, thanks to the ceiling light. Daphne reached out and lifted his head gently, not surprised to see that he looked more downcast than she'd ever seen him.

"Are you OK?" she asked gently, and he didn't reply, just shook his head. Daphne shifted over and kissed him, sliding her hand into his hair and holding him close. He smiled, but as soon as Daphne drew back the smile vanished. Daphne racked her brains to think what he might be sad about- after all, he was back home, he was with her and the training was over; normally he would have been smiling and laughing and in high spirits now.

"What's up? Your parents?"

"No."

"One of us, one of the gang?"

"No."

"Um… Your uncle?"

He smiled slightly.

"I knew you'd get there in the end."

Daphne pulled him closer to her and rested her head against his, feeling his warmth against her and his coarse blond hair against her soft red hair.

"What is it? Are you just sad that you can't see him again for a while?"

"I have to go back in a few days. Only for a couple of hours. So I'll see him again. But it'll… it'll be the last time."

Daphne gasped slightly.

"What do you mean? Isn't he eternal or something?"

"He was," Fred murmured. "After he died he chose to stay and he could because he was a Mana-Bringer. But now that I'm one… There can only be a certain number of Mana-Bringers in the world at any one time. In spirit form and human form. So if I become a Mana-Bringer, then he- he has to cease to exist. Die as he was meant to. And so I'll be saving the clan but I'll be killing my uncle's spirit. I don't know what to do- if I go back then he will die the same day. If I don't then the clan dies and he lives. I know it's better if I go back but it's my uncle's death sentence if I do and that feels so bad."

Daphne held him close again as he fought back tears, guessing he was thinking, _You've cried enough tears, Freddy Jones, and you shouldn't cry any more. _She heard the phone ring downstairs but didn't move, her hand moving up and gently smoothing itself over his back, reassuring him, calming him, soothing him. To go back would save the lives of people Fred barely knew even now, but kill the man he had admired, lived with, been blood-related to and, most importantly of all, loved. Anyone would be in turmoil.

"You're going back, aren't you?"

Fred sniffed.

"It's what he said he wanted. He told me that he wasn't worth killing the clan for and that he was dead already so it didn't make any difference. But he isn't dead, he's still alive and he can still talk to me and remember stuff he did when he was- alive, I guess- and it just seems too cruel."

"It's horrible that it all rests on you, but you have to do it," Daphne said quietly, her fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck and her eyes firmly on his. She took it as a good sign that he didn't look away.

"I feel like I'm killing him."

"Don't think that. You're not. He told you to do this, so you're only following orders. There's no point in beating yourself up for this, Freddy, because it won't get you anywhere."

"I can't help it. It is killing him whether I disguise it or not."

"Freddy…"

Fred let his head sink slightly and focused on the floor.

"Yeah?"

Daphne smiled tenderly at him, putting her hand on the back of his neck and refusing to let go as he stood up.

"Freddy, sweetheart… Your uncle wouldn't want you to beat yourself up over this, and nor do I. There's nothing you can do and there's nothing that you should do differently. Your uncle might die, but he died nine years ago and you got through that. He's gone, Freddy. In almost every sense of the word. Keeping him in the state he's in now- trapped as a half-being- it's not a life, Freddy. You'd be saving the clan if you let him go, and that's what you should do. He wants you to and you need to. Don't blame yourself, because it's just what you need to do. I'll be there every step of the way for you, I promise. Just don't make out this is your fault."

He sighed lightly, letting her caress his neck still, the hairs on the back of his neck slowly gathering static until they stood up like a hairbrush. Daphne stroked them back down and waited for him to speak.

"I guess you're right."

Daphne smiled, feeling relieved. She was out of arguments now, and glad that he'd stopped thinking this was his fault.

"Thank you," she murmured, and kissed his cheek, wishing with all her heart that none of this had happened as she did so.

* * *

Fred turned the cold, condensation-sprinkled can over in his fingers, wondering what to do with it in his head. He'd slipped it out of the fridge on his return to the house, after telling his parents what he had told Daphne and making an excuse to escape to his room, and had been planning to drink it, thinking that the beer inside would make him forget, make the pain numb. He knew that was what alcoholics felt inside. But tomorrow he would have to kill his uncle and anything that would soothe the sharp, sword-slashing pain in his guts would be welcome.

The can fizzed as he opened it, almost slicing his thumb on the top due to his hands shaking. The amber liquid seemed so tempting and yet… something told him to back off, warned him against it. It would hurt him, but it would calm him. Damage him, and help him at the same time. He sighed, raising it to his face and breathing in the sharp, bitter smell of the beer inside. Privately, he shuddered. He knew he would grow into beer, into liking it; his father had never had beer as a teen, and now he was lost without his can every Friday night in front of the football after a week at work. But the bitterness and the fizzing and the sharpness were not to his taste right now.

He took a sip and almost spat it out again. Was this worth it? Was this really the antidote to a night of sleeplessness and restlessness and agonising wait? He took a mouthful and forced himself to swallow it, ignoring the cool, nasty taste, and then another. And another. Half the can.

As soon as the can was empty he threw it in the bin and made to sneak another one from downstairs. Staggering slightly on his way up from the bed and not sure whether to curse or be thankful for his low alcohol tolerance, he opened the door- and walked straight into his father.

"Aha. The beer thief."

Fred watched anxiously as his father reached out and grasped his arm.

"Freddy- come with me."

Mr Jones beckoned for his son to follow him into the lounge, and Fred obeyed, silently wondering what was to come. A lecture? A telling-off? A punishment? Each one seemed minor compared to what was happening tomorrow, which still weighed like a ton of lead on his mind despite the beer.

Mr Jones turned as soon as they were both in and put his hand on Fred's shoulder, sighing. Fred waited.

"You know, I tried beer when I was your age. I had a little girlfriend trouble about the age you are now, seventeen and a half or so. I thought drinking would help. And it didn't. The price I paid is that I was bankrupt for two years and my parents had to pay a fine for criminal damage I caused while drunk. I smashed a window of their neighbour's car and they paid rather than have them go to the police. I don't want to have to go there with you. Drinking won't help what's happening tomorrow, Freddy. You have to do it and we'll help you along the way. You don't want to drink, son. No. That's the wrong way to do anything. Look, here's an idea: why don't you take a sleeping pill? Better than tossing and turning all night. I've got some in the medicine cabinet for when I'm stressed. Haven't used them for a while, although when you first went off and started this training I was popping pills most nights until I was assured you were safe. One of the main things your mother and I have in common; we both worry and worry and worry. I'll go and get one for you, you take a shower and I recommend mouthwash; you smell like a brewery."

Fred managed a small smile.

"Thanks, Dad."

"No problem."

* * *

The sleeping pills didn't quite work. The packet promised relief from nightmares as well as deep sleep.

Fred's dreams were riddled with his uncle, screaming in pain and vanishing in front of him, clutching his nephew's arm with one spectral-cold hand and gasping, "No… Stop… Freddy, I didn't mean it… don't kill me!" Each time he slept on, the pills working in that respect at least, but each time was worse than the last and each time the scream was louder and harsher and more tortured than ever before.


	16. Chapter 16

"I've got the mother of all headaches…" Fred groaned, sitting up cautiously as Mrs Jones walked in, her face creased in concern.

"I got you some aspirin, and some coffee to help you wake up. Loszina said to your dad that you should be there for about midday, and we've let you sleep in until ten, so now you should be getting up. The shower's free."

Fred groaned again and took a sip of the coffee, opening his eyes properly to take in his room and his worried mother fussing like a hen around him, leaning him forwards slightly and positioning his pillows under him to make him more comfortable. Fred slouched back into them and gladly accepted the aspirin, his mind weighed down under a huge block of lead that was the knowledge that today his uncle would not exactly die, but he would cease to exist.

The shower did little to ease his mind, although normally hot water and shower gel helped Fred to calm, soothed him slightly. Fred sighed and was about to wrap the towel round himself when there was a knock at the door and Daphne's voice filtered in.

"I thought I'd come along, for support. I don't want you to have to do this alone."

"Dad's coming as well, but thanks for coming," Fred replied, wrapping the towel firmly round his stomach and walking out. Daphne smoothed his hair back and grabbed another towel from the banister to dry his hair. Fred bowed his head slightly and let her rub the moisture from it, knowing it would be sticking up in all directions when she took the towel away and not caring.

Daphne slid the towel back onto the banister and once again smoothed Fred's hair down, trying to even it out and get it back into its normal shape. Naturally it went all over the shop, and for ten minutes the pair's shared mission was to get it back to how it should be. Fred sorted out the front and Daphne attacked the back and sides, which hurt at times but at least looked good when she'd finished.

"There," Daphne said gently, flicking a stray hair back into place and picking up some clothes that Mrs Jones had pointedly left on a chair. "Get those on, we've got half an hour before you need to leave. I'm right outside the door."

She left to give him his privacy and he got changed slowly, hesitantly, dreading what was to come. In an odd way, his mind was trying to block it out, almost make it like it wasn't happening and this was just another boring normal day when Daphne had just happened to pop round out of the blue and he had had a beer the night before and now had a headache from it. Although that might have been a combined effort, with the beer and the sleeping pills working together.

Fred barely even tasted his breakfast; the half hour passed in a haze and the next thing he knew he was in the back of the car, leaning back against the seat and with Daphne's arms round him as the car backed out of the driveway.

Fred held her back, thinking hard about what he would have to do. Was it killing his uncle? Was it merciful, was it brutal- what was it? His mind almost buzzed as he tried to work it out. Mr Jones didn't say a word until he parked the car at the base of the hill and got out, opening the door for Fred and watching as his son unclipped his seat belt and slid a leg out, standing up on the ground and shivering slightly as a chill wind whipped his fringe over his eyes.

"Come on then," he murmured, his own heart weighed almost as much as Fred's, and slid his arm around his son's shoulders as Daphne held him round his waist. Fred smiled slightly at the feel of them supporting him as he took a step towards his uncle's doom, and then another, and another, and then too many for him to count. He bowed his head and resolved not to let his eyes fill with tears. Crying wouldn't help anything now; he would have to do what he had to do.

* * *

The walk seemed to take barely any time at all, and before he knew it Fred was standing in front of Loszina and Myrrh in the clearing and his uncle's spirit was a little way away, leaning against a tree as if he didn't have a care in the world. His face conveyed a hard-to-read expression- thankfulness was in there, and happiness, but there was also fright and sorrow and apprehension.

Fred turned and spoke straight to his uncle, his resolve not to cry still there, an iron core on his heart.

"Are you ready, Uncle James?"

James Jones nodded, his luminescent eyes drinking in the sight of his nephew standing resolute and pale-faced but strong in the centre of the glade he had been trapped in for so long and was going to be released from now.

"Yes. And Freddy… I don't blame you for this. I prefer it to being stuck here forever. Don't feel like you're killing me or hurting me, because I won't even feel anything."

Fred bowed his head again, still unsure.

"Go on, kiddo," James said softly, using his old name for his nephew, his affectionate name, to try and calm him, make him feel that everything was OK again. It couldn't be, but he could try and soothe him a little.

Fred began to spread his arms, to start the process of becoming an official Mana-Bringer, but then faltered, biting his lip and looking once again to his uncle. Daphne walked over and put her arms round him as James walked up and stood in front of him, staring into his son's eyes, refusing to break eye contact with him.

"It's OK. Just- get it over and done with, kiddo. I don't blame you, nobody here does. I promise. Just do it, and it'll be over before you know it."

Daphne walked back to her position near the entrance of the glade, standing next to Mr Jones. James stayed where he was, and Fred's eyes never once left his uncle's as he held his hands out and bowed his head as the mana began swirling round, pulling the air with it and throwing Daphne's hair over her head like a scarlet halo. Loszina and Myrrh were huddled together against the onslaught, and normally Fred would have been unable to even stand, but due to his uncle standing right in front of him and the force with which his mana-body repelled the mana and wind around them, he was barely even feeling a light breeze.

And then the air began dying down. The mana settled on trees, people, the earth.

Loszina and Myrrh stood and performed their clan's special gesture in perfect unison, obviously practised, making the star sign on their chests and thrusting their chins skywards.

And James Jones disappeared.

Daphne rushed forwards as Fred reached out, like a child, and touched the empty air where moments later his uncle had been standing, his face a mask of sadness and loss.

"Freddy…"

He turned and she threw her arms round him, letting him hide his face in her shoulder and not caring as she felt a tear seep into her clothing. His resolve had failed; he had lost his uncle for a second time and he was unable to stop the tears.

"Don't think that you're not supposed to cry," she murmured to him as she pressed her cheek against his thick soft hair, a tear running down her own cheek at the emotions in the little glade. "Crying is fine. You can cry. I don't mind in the least. You're OK."

He nodded slightly and Mr Jones put his arms round his son's shoulders as well, guiding him towards the car and home. Loszina and Myrrh had agreed he could return when he felt he could face the glade and its inhabitants, the Arruichi.

It took a few days, for him to be able to say he wanted to go back, to start the job he had trained for.

But he did.

* * *

"You ready?" Fred asked, smiling as Daphne carefully positioned herself under the tarpaulin and nodded, grinning as well.

"Ready. Just channel it away from me."

Fred nodded, no longer smiling, his face a mask of concentration and effort.

Daphne watched as a wind began swirling around Fred's extended hand, which shook slightly but which he had the strength to hold reasonably still, and seemed to be in a tunnel of some sort, which was strictly controlled. The air allowed her to see the actual boundaries of mana as Fred channelled it, biting on his lip and narrowing his eyes, and Daphne's eyes widened as the flowers in Mrs Jones's flower patch suddenly and miraculously rejuvenated and began flowering.

"Mom asks me to do that almost every day, she doesn't want her violas to wither," Fred said, withdrawing his hand and his face relaxing. The mana settled and the air went back to normal almost immediately.

"Wow," Daphne said, smiling and forgetting herself after seeing such an amazing thing happen right in front of her eyes and courtesy of her best friend and boyfriend. "That'll be handy when we're living together…"

She stopped and gasped, her hand travelling to her mouth and slapping on top of it with a sharp crack of skin on skin. Fred turned and stared at her with a strange expression on his face.

"When we're living together? Is that saying that you want to… to live with me?"

Daphne thought quickly, but her mind was whirling in circles.

"Well… I sort of… I didn't mean to say it like that… but I was thinking… if you wanted to… we could… when you move out… we could rent somewhere… together… and just sort of… be together…"

Fred smiled slightly.

"You're embarrassed, so I'll allow you a second to get your cheeks under control. They match your hair, though."

Daphne giggled and put her hands up to them. They were cooking.

"Ooh…"

Fred laughed as she pressed the backs of her hands against them, and walked over to her, his eyes staring into hers, burning but not fiercely, burning with something that Daphne had never thought she'd see in them. Want. Desire. And maybe… maybe love?

"And I'm moving out soon. I accept your offer."

Daphne laughed as his face coloured slightly as well and threw herself into his arms, holding him as tightly as she could without crushing the life out of him and pressing her lips against his, certain that she would never, could never love another man the way she loved this one.

"I love you," she whispered, losing herself in his aqua orbs of eyes. He wasn't much better; it was impossible, in that second, for either to look away.

"And I love you too."

Daphne smiled a smile of true love and kissed him again just as the sun dipped under a branch and cast its setting rays on them, bathing them in orange and caressing their features.

_Can life get any better? _Fred thought, holding Daphne still as they slid onto the bench and snuggled against each other. The look in her eyes was adoration.

_No. I don't think it could._

And just for a second, the air seemed to form a familiar face, a smile that Fred would never forget, and James Jones lived for one more second in his entirety, watching Fred with the girl he would love for the rest of his life.

_I always knew you were destined for things greater than riches, kiddo._

Daphne slid her hand into Fred's and her other into his hair as he fell asleep with his uncle's final words echoing in his ears and her presence warm and loving against him.

* * *

A/N: Woo! Done. Don't forget to review, and thanks for bearing with me and reading! A special thanks to Angel1008, Swamp Fairy and Hayles45 for help and encouragement and just lovely comments- you guys make all the difference, I live for my writing and you make it so rewarding. Jazzola :)


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